


Right the First Time

by msmerlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Auror Hermione Granger, Aurors, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Horcruxes, M/M, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 53
Words: 299,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmerlin/pseuds/msmerlin
Summary: “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.





	1. Right the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story stuck in my head for quiet some time now and decided to take the plunge and put thoughts to paper (or computer). The idea of a young exuberant Sirius working with Hermione to save their world just wouldn't leave my head. I currently have the story outlined and several chapters written. My goal is to post 1 chapter a week as I finish. Enjoy! ~ MM
> 
> *Updated Weekly*  
> ** A big thank you to Islndgurl777 for being my sounding board & beta. <3 **
> 
> This fic has been nominated for The Shrieking Shack Society's Mischief Managed Awards 2018 in Best Time Travel Fic.
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**December 14** **th** **, 1998 - Minister Shacklebolt’s Office, Ministry of Magic**

_“Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” the Minister asked as his thumb rubbed against his index and middle finger on his right hand, his eyes stuck to the young witch before him._

_“You know the answer to that question Kings—Minister.” Old habits were the hard to break. Sitting before her was the familiar face of Kingsley Shacklebolt, and although this should be of comfort, she knew now that his request for a meeting was beyond a friendly chat._

_Less than one year ago, The Golden Trio defeated the Dark Lord at The Battle of Hogwarts, or so the lines from The Daily Prophet read. This was supposed to be the coming of a new wizarding age, but the problem was no one was celebrating. The casualties of the war left scars too deep for even the most optimistic of wizards to ignore. It wasn’t until she began her official time with the Aurors that she realized how deep these chasms ran in the recovering British Wizarding community._

_Crime was on the rise. Although no one was supporting the Death Eaters, at least not publicly, there was tension within the community that was so thick you could cut it with a knife. People were mourning their loved ones, struggling to find a purpose in this new world without them, and for those recent graduates of Hogwarts, the transition into adulthood proved a much more difficult transition than anticipated. Hermione was thrust into an adulthood without parents. Yes, she had Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but when her relationship with Ronald ended so he could pursue more carnal delights than a singular witch. Well, their split did not leave her relationship with his parents intact. She could no longer use the Weasley’s as surrogates for her own parents, at best their relationship could be consider cordial._

_The Minister's fingers stopped their movement at her response. His hands shifted to push the sleeves of his purple dress robes up to his elbows before the file that lay upon his desk was opened, dark eyes shifting from the young witch in front of him to the parchment. “Hermione…. Your use of the Time-Turner was of great…. debate in the Auror department.” His response was drawn out, as if struggling to find the right words to say. What did he think he needed to convince her of? The fact that he was tongue-tied_ w _as making Hermione uncomfortable, as she had never known Kingsley of being a man who struggled to find meaning to his words._

_Shifting in the wooden chair, her left leg rose to drape over her right, crossing over at the knee as she leaned back. Her short-painted fingernails scratched lightly at the wood of the arms, and the feeling of the grain slide under the tips of her fingers seemed to comfort her while she waited for him to continue._

_“When the Department of Mysteries began this research you were still a young girl, Hermione. In fact, this research was almost abandoned entirely when Albus was murdered.” Her chocolate brown eyes dropped from his at his words, turning instead towards the file upon on his desk._

_“Until recently, we assumed that when traveling back in time you could not alter the past….however we believe this to be incorrect. Miss .Granger, your own experience using the Time-Turner proved this to us. Had we not discovered the truth in Albus’ pensive, we would have never thought to reopen this case.”_

_“What are you saying, Kingsley? You want me to consult with the Department of Mysteries on how to alter time?”_

_“No, Miss Granger. We want you to assist the original Order in stopping Voldemort and his followers the first time.”_

___________________________________________________________________

**December 31** **st** **, 1998 - 23:45 - Department of Mysteries**

It had taken two weeks to convince Hermione this wasn’t a suicide mission. It wasn’t until Kingsley let her review that file that she allowed herself to believe the possibility of this stupid plan actually working. Apparently the Department of Mysteries began sending back representatives for small periods of time to experiment with the cause and effect they could have on the present. The trips were quick in the beginning, staying just long enough to plant a seed in the grass. Only to return 20 years to the present to have a young tree in its place. Of course, once they realized that the effects were lasting, they decided they could not let this discovery go unused.

Contacting the first Order of the Phoenix had been priority. Although as one could imagine, wizards and witches having not been through the second war were a bit harder to convince. It took several trips before they trusted and believed the representatives sent back. The plans to begin were secured by December 31St. Her mission was set. Hermione was under a strict non-disclosure spell to prevent this from leaking to the press or worse, sympathizers left behind from the war. No one could know what the ministry was up to. Not even her closest friends.

“Fuck,“ Hermione whispered under her breath as shaky palms brushed against the blue jeans she wore. Kingsley assured her she would not look out of place once there, although it did not ease the fear she felt bubbling up in her gut as she looked in the mirror. She’d seen pictures of her parents in similar attire prior to her birth. She had found a box of old photos when she was clearing out their home after their move to Australia. A lot of their possessions had been left behind in the hasty move to the new continent and it felt wrong to leave them rotting up in the attic.

Hands balled at her sides before plunging into her burgundy jacket pockets as her last shaky breath was taken. She turned on her heel to exit the small office she had gotten ready in. When returning to the office space from the private room she felt all eyes in the room land on her. “So…I guess we ought to get on with it then?” her voice cracked with the slightest hint of worry, although her body language attempted to lie to everyone in the room about her nervousness.

Kingsley rose from his chair, walking towards her with the small silver time turner held in his hands by a delicate chain. “Remember Miss Granger, you might come across some familiar faces. It is best if you do not indicate you know them from the future. Not all involved in this project are privy to the same information you are,” he reminded as he gently placed the Time-Turner around the young witch’s neck.

“You said my first visit would only be for one day, Kingsley. Who do you expect me to meet?”

“Arrangements were made between Alastor and Albus, but you never know…. We are rewriting the past.” His lips rose in a slight smirk as his hands shifted from holding the silver chain to her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Hermione placed her hand on Minister's left forearm to return the friendly gesture before she took a step back from his grasp. As he began his walk back to the chair he once occupied, her hands lifted to pick up the small silver Time-Turner. This one looked different than her last. The hourglass was framed in an oval-shaped pendant of solid silver. Four layers of silver oval rings surrounded the pendent and the outermost ring connected to the silver chain. The grains of sand inside the hourglass were a deep purple, almost black, but in the right light you could see their true color.

“I suppose I’ll see you soon?” Dark eyes lifted from the Time-Turner to Kingsley, who nodded.

Her fingers grasped the outer ring of the Turner, and eyes dropped to the object to make sure her movements were precise, even though she knew the correct sequence needed to travel back to her destination. Nimble fingers moved with no hesitation as she twisted and turned the outer rings before reaching the destination of the hourglass. With one final push, her fingers spun the hourglass around, and she felt the familiar pull of time.

It started at her navel and spread out like fire to the rest of her body. The world around her began to go in reverse until it moved so fast everything began to blur together in one fluid motion. Eyes closed tight as she brought her right hand to her lips, pressing her fingers tight against her mouth as nausea set in. She had never traveled this far back before. At the time of her first encounter with Time-Turners it was unthinkable to travel beyond five hours, yet here she was going twenty years.

With a sudden lurch she felt her body stop its travel through time. And as she landed in 1978 her knees buckled, sending her to the hard stone floor with a bang. The ringing in her ears prevented her from hearing the sounds of the room around her. As her dark eyes opened she found her surroundings blurred by tears.

_‘Get it together Hermione…you've done this before,’_ she told herself as she let out heavy breaths between retching as she attempted to prevent her body from expelling her dinner. Willing her body to calm down, her stare drifted up from the grey limestone flooring. Hidden behind the curtain of chestnut curls her eyes landed upon a pair of boots. The toes were scuffed by wear and even from her distance she could see the laces were in dire need of replacement.

“Blimey! You alright?”

Hermione’s head rose as her right hand lifted to push back the curls from her face. Body tipped back, resting her arse upon the heels of her boots to take the pressure off her knees, which ached in pain from her fall to the floor. As her chocolate eyes connected with a familiar pair of smoke gray she took a sharp breath in.

“Sirius?”

The wizard who bent down to check on Hermione cocked his head to the side, and his brows shot up to the dark hairline before a wicked grin spread across his face. “So it is true….I really am so famous even birds from the ministry know about me.”

_Oh bollocks… it is him._

“I think I’m going to be sick…” her voice hovered only above a whisper as her mind began to whirl to catch up to what was happening. Her left hand pressed into the limestone floor as her right hand went to her gut. The young witch doubled over quickly and before she could stop herself, her dinner made its return from her stomach and onto the toes of Sirius’s boots.


	2. The Hog's Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage that Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Updated Weekly*
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**January 1** **st** **, 1979 – 00:30 – Department of Mysteries** **  
**

“I’d normally ask for a kiss, since it is midnight on New Year’s…. But I think I’ll wait until later.” Sirius’s singsong voice teased Hermione as she burned crimson over the washbasin in the washroom. Sirius was leaning back against the tile wall behind her, twirling his wand between his fingers as he waited for her to clean herself up.

“I’m sorry. It must have been the..portkey.” Her voice hesitated as she remember her deceit.

Pushing himself off the wall, Sirius walked up behind Hermione, his hand moving to rest on the washbasin next to hers and he pushed a stray curl behind her shoulder gently. “I’ve never seen a witch react this badly to a portkey.” His voice was tender, as if he was truly concerned about her well being. Hermione should have known though; she had heard stories about Sirius from Remus and other members of the original Order after his passing, remembering the cocky wizard over a drink as they’d shared memories of his playful demeanor that often got him in trouble.

“It’s okay...you don’t need to lie. I know the effect I have on women.”  
  
Hermione’s head snapped over to look at him, “Excuse me?” Her brow furrowed and she pushed herself off the porcelain pedestal, head shaking as an unintended laugh left her throat.  
  
“No...absolutely not.” Her hands rose, fingers sliding into the curls at her hairline to push them back as her laughter built to a low roar. Pulling the mane back she gathered her hair, pulling the elastic band around her wrist around the mass of hair to hold it back in a messy ponytail. 

Sirius’s hand went to his chest in mock hurt as he stumbled back from the witch towards the other sink. His hand reached out to clutch the side as if he was struggling to stand under the sting of her laughter. “Oh you wound me, Sweetheart.” Grey eyes danced as their gazes connected. “You sure?”

“Yes. It will never happen.”

“Never? Is that a challenge?” Thick black brow lifted as his body twisted, leaning back against the washbasin, his arms crossed over his chest. Black robes shifted up his frame, and although he had clearly followed orders to dress the part for tonight’s mission, Hermione could see the muggle shirt and blue jeans beneath.  
  
“I believe I was told to meet Alastor…..Where is he?” Not even giving his question a dignified response, she moved to straighten out her jacket, tapping the left pocket to make sure her wand was still secure inside.  
  
“Moody got called away. Something about a rogue hex and paperwork.” His hand rose to wave off the conversation as he pushed off the pedestal to walk to the door. Pulling it open he turned, glancing at the witch over his shoulder. “You’re stuck with me tonight, Little bird.”

“Great…” she moved quickly to walk after the taller wizard, pushing open the heavy door before it could close completely behind him. “My name is Hermione by the way. I’d prefer you use it,” she announced quickly as she hurried her stride to walk beside him.

“Her-what?” His head turned to look at the witch in disbelief. “If you’re given to give me a made up name, you at least have to try harder than that.” Shaking his head he reached out, opening up another set of double doors.

Hermione allowed her body to slip through and she paused, waiting for him to lead the way. “It’s not made up!” Cheeks flushed in frustration. This wasn’t the first time she had heard of someone giving her a hard time over her name. “It’s from the play,” her voice half-whispered as the last line left her lips. The words were like the bell to Pavlov’s dogs; she couldn’t help but need to explain the origin as she had for the last 19 years.

“What a mouthful.” Sirius chuckled as he directed the small witch to the lift, his hand gently sliding to her lower back as he guided her into the metal cage of the Ministry lift. “I think I like my name for you better.” His hand rose to slide the lever to his intended level before he turned his eyes back upon her.  
  
“Wonderful.” Shaking her head she looked anywhere but at him. She could feel his gaze on her as she turned to watch the passing Ministry floors. The only thing that made Hermione aware she was definitely not in her own time was the absence of the magical paper messages that fluttered about the Ministry at all hours of the night. Her right hand rose to touch the cold bars that held the lift together as she leaned away from Sirius. “Where are we going?”

“Well...it wouldn’t be a proper introduction to the Order without a drink, would it?” His eyes danced, hiding his true intention behind the sentence as he watched her mind tick. It was as if he could watch the cogs and gears behind those pretty brown eyes turn to life as she tried to figure him out.

Before she could open her mouth to protest he reached out, placing a hand upon her shoulder. “We heard rumor of wizards organizing at the Hog’s Head….We’re popping over and waiting to see who shows up. Easy mission to pop that cherry, don’t worry, little bird.”  
  
“Hog’s Head Inn at Hogsmeade? By Hogwarts.” Her voice cracked in disbelief. ‘ _Aberforth would never allow that to happen!’_  
  
“The very one….” his voice trailed off in thought as he turned to look at Hermione once more, his eyes studying her face. “Where did you go to school?” His attention was brought back to the front of the lift as a small bell chimed, letting them know they had reached their destination.

His hand slid from her shoulder as he turned to open the lift doors. Sirius allowed Hermione out before he followed, walking down the large atrium towards the Apparition point at the end of the room.

“Hogwarts.” The breath following her admission hitched and she glanced up at him briefly before looking forward. ‘ _Great job, Hermione. Get it together_.’ Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, right hand slipped into her jacket’s pocket to retrieve her wand.

“Well now I know you’re lying…. I would have remembered you.”  
  
“Maybe you were too busy chasing skirts or pulling pranks?”

As they reached the apparition point Hermione paused, her free hand darting out to curl around his arm instinctively. The intimate gesture caused Sirius to smirk.  “I would have remembered your skirt though. I imagine it fit around…” his voice paused as the arm she grasped slithered from her grasp to curl around her hips. Fingers spreading open across her hip farthest away from him and he pulled her body into him. “..this waist quiet nicely.”

Chocolate brown eyes widened in response to his actions. Sure, she’d been hit on before but never in such a brazen fashion. The flush that had faded from her cheeks earlier returned in full force, the red even spreading to the tops of her ears.

Her mouth opened but before she could respond his eyes lifted from hers and they were pulled from the Ministry. Her surroundings went black and she felt as if she was being pulled in all directions, as if the only thing grounding her to the moment was Sirius’s arm around her. As the invisible bands around her chest began to tighten, her body turned into his. The hand holding her wand tucked against her chest as her other one slid from his arm to clutch onto the front of his black robes.

With a loud crack they landed just outside the village, their Apparition echoing off small buildings. As her body began to calm from their travel she pushed off against his chest, turning her body away from his. “You’re a prat!” Boots stomped against the snow in the direction of twinkling lights. The village was covered in a soft blanket of snow, having only fallen hours before. Her boots broke the pristine blanket in anger.  
  
Laughter was the only sound that followed as Sirius stumbled back from her shove. “Aw...come on...I was only joking,” he called after her, jogging to catch up to the witch who could move surprisingly fast when mad.    
  
“My time here isn’t a joke, Sirius Black! I am here to HELP you.” Pausing her stride, her body swirled and she moved toward him, wand pressing against his chest as she rounded on him. “I expect to be treated with respect.” Her wand pressed against his sternum with each syllable. “And for the love of Godric, stop calling me Little Bird!” If she could ignite fire with her eyes the whole village would be ablaze. Her breath left a visible trail in the air from the heat of her words.

“Alright...Alright!” His hands rose in the universal sign of surrender as he took two steps back from her, trying to free himself from being on the receiving end of a wand from an upset witch. “I’ll play nice _Hermione_ . How about we start over, yeah?” With a small smile of peace he extended his left hand. “Nice to meet you…. Name’s Sirius Black.” As he introduced himself a charming grin spilled over the boyish features. As his robes hitched up she noticed a thick black leather band encircling his wrist, but poking out beneath it was the beginnings of the familiar ink he had. Except in this time it was not faded from age and weather, but fresh and bright.  
  
“Hermione Granger.” Dropping her wand to her side, her free hand slipped into his. Brown eyes locked on his. She couldn’t help but notice the roughness of his hands, even the tips of his fingers felt as if small calluses had formed from years of abuse.  She slipped her hand from his, allowing her fingers to ghost against his palm as she pulled back. Tucking a stray curl that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, her gaze broke from his.

“Sounds familiar.” His hand rose to his lips as his fingers tapped against them in pretend thought. “From a play, right?” His brow perked up as he cocked his head to the side. A slow smirk began to form as he watched the witch before him turn her attention back to his face.

“Yes...a muggle play.” Eyes rolled as her head shook in disbelief. Is this what her time dealing with Sirius would be like? One giant build up to an inevitable punchline. Turning from him again, she began her path down the familiar dirt road, although this time much less angry than before.

Hermione knew this little village like the back of her hand; she could recite the shops names in order from beginning to end of the street. She could even name which ones contained hidden passageways back to the school. To think she would be here a mere couple of years later with one of the creators of the map that allowed her to possess this information was strange. What was unimaginable was that she would be here with him when he was still a young man, only a few years post-graduation.

“Is the Order worried these meetings are being held so close to the school?” Her voice broke the silence as they walked past the darkened storefronts. Just the twinkling lights from the occasional lamp posts guided their way towards the end of the road where the Hog’s Head was.  
  
“They’re meeting in the Hog’s Head because it is so close to the school,” Sirius explained. Reaching out to grab her slender wrist, he pull her body to a stop just a few steps away from the dimmed lighting outside of the Inn. “Hermione, you do realize they’re recruiting from within the school, right?”

Of course she knew. The rational part of her knew that it happened, just based on age differences in Death Eaters. Hell, they had recruited from within the school during the Second Wizarding War. Malfoy’s Dark Mark was a clear confirmation that they did not have an age requirement to become one, just a searing hatred for Muggles and Muggle-borns was required. Or in Malfoy’s case, a broken boy who wanted too badly to have his father’s approval. Still, verbalizing the fact was a hard pill to swallow. “Yes, of course.” Her tone was flat, carefully masking any emotion she might have.

“Didn’t Moody brief you before you showed up?”

“Yes. It must have just slipped my mind.” The truth was nobody had briefed her for this. Sure there was case files for her to go over in the Ministry, but the First Wizarding War with Voldemort wasn’t exactly documented well. It had happened so fast that by the time they had begun to properly gather information to document the murders and gatherings, October 31st, 1981 happened and Voldemort went into hiding for the next ten years. This was part of her mission, document the details and send her reports to Alastor before she returned back to 1999. With these reports they could prevent future Dark Wizards from doing as much damage as Voldemort.

“Have you got a robe?” Sirius’s voice broke her away from her thoughts, dark eyes turning up to him.

“What?” she questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.  
  
Removing his hand from her wrist, he gestured to her clothing. “You’re going to stand out in there with Muggle clothes on. Especially if you’re supposed to be friendly with wizards who find this look unappealing.” Adjusting his own black robes, he pulled the hood over his head, only the ends of his black hair and chin truly visible. “It does look  nice on you though….never understood the baggy robes pureblood birds insist upon wearing. I like a pair of tight Muggle jeans on a witch’s backside.”

“Sirius, just stop.” Hermione was certain she was the same color of Ginny’s hair. Her only saving grace was that they were still in the shadows, so Sirius couldn’t see the obvious embarrassment she was in. Reaching into her purse Hermione began to dig around until her fingers landed on the soft fabric. “Oh!” She’d never returned it to Harry after The Battle of Hogwarts and their time hunting Horcruxes. Removing the beautiful cloak from her purse she shook out the material with a quick snap. Fingers worked on clasping at the base of her throat when her attention was drawn up to her companion.  
  
“Did you get that from Potter?” he questioned as the familiar fabric caused her to disappear before his eyes. Sirius probably figured it was safe to assume she might have met other members of the First Order, especially if Moody thought the witch competent enough to go out on a mission.

“Um..no. Alastor left it for me to use,” she lied. “Didn’t say where it came from. Just that it might come in handy.” Pulling the hood over her curls, her body disappeared completely. Without knowing she was already there it would appear Sirius was entirely alone talking to himself in the middle of the street.  
  
“I bet Moody didn’t even let Prongs know he swiped it,” Sirius muttered under his breath as he walked to the heavy wooden door. Pulling it open, he held it for half a second too long, allowing Hermione to slip inside unnoticed before he shuffled inside from the bitter cold.  
  
The lights were dimmed and only the murmur of low tones could be heard. The few patrons left in the Hog’s Head at this hour did not even bother to turn and look up at the new visitor to the establishment.

Rough wooden tables were scattered around the room, half of which were filled with wizards and witches that wished to remain hidden underneath the shadows of the flickering candlelight. Hermione’s footsteps were muffled under the sound of Sirius’s boots against the filthy wooden floor.

Moving to the bar, Sirius leaned over the sticky wooden bartop to place his order of firewhiskey. As the younger of the Dumbledore brothers filled the order, Sirius slid the four Sickles to him. Hermione stood a few paces behind him, making sure to avoid the occasional passerby.

As dark eyes scanned the room, they landed on a familiar face. Although half-hidden under a cloak, she could recognize the dark haired wizard anywhere. Dolohov. She had sparred with him twice in the future, and knew the viciousness he held.

Moving close to Sirius, her hand shot out to slide against his arm, careful to keep her hand hidden under the cloak during the process so she did not alert anyone who might have been watching Sirius that she was there. Pausing his movement she leaned up, her mouth close enough to his ear he could feel her breath on him. “Back left….Antonin Dolohov has some guests.”

Sirius didn’t turn his head toward the corner at her words, instead he leaned his body into her grasp in recognition. “I’ll be right over...see what you can hear.” It was almost as if his lips didn’t move. The words were a breathy whisper into the air before he turned, beginning a slow path around the room as if he was a patron searching for the perfect spot.

Hermione made her way over to the huddled men, careful to avoid squeaky planks of wood on her trip. As she got closer she could make out the Hogwarts symbol on the breast of a set of robes.  
  
“He’ll reward you for your work, Crouch.”  
  
“But when? When will he let me take the mark?”  
  
“Soon. Be patient.” 

“I’ve waited long enough!”

“He will let you know when it’s time.” His hand curled into a tight fist and the whites of his knuckles began to shine through as the rage the wizard felt set in. “Do not question the Dark Lord’s methods, Crouch! You should remember you place and keep your impatience to yourself,” his voice hissed as a sneer crossed his features.  
  
Hermione's mouth went dry as the realization set in. This was a young Barty Crouch, Jr., already working with the Death Eaters, and apparently providing information directly to Dolohov. Shifting her slender frame, Hermione attempted to gain a better vantage to see if she could identify the two other members that accompanied Dolohov and Barty.  
  
Barty’s eyes dropped to his hands at the reprimand and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He appeared to be about 16 or 17. Hermione remembered those years well, but not as an adult reminiscing on her happy, carefree teenage years. Those were her years fighting for her life, her years hunting the Horcruxes.

Her body bared scars from her skirmishes with dark wizards and witches. Even the sight of Dolohov made a familiar deep purple blemish ache with remembrance of the present he’d left her. She was just a child at the time, fighting for something that she didn’t quite understand, but felt within her soul, and fighting for her best friend’s life in the process. She had those years taken from her and here was Crouch, Jr., willingly giving his youth to follow a wizard who made false promises of a better life for wizardkind by destroying other people. People he deemed beneath him, who held mud in their veins instead of pure magic. Her stomach churned in disgust.

“Be ready in next month. We’ll get you and the rest to Salisbury to help take care of our little pest problem,” Dolohov snickered out the last of his words, taking a piece of paper off the table between them and pulling it into his robes. “Keep an ear out for more information, Crouch. We will always be available to pass it along until you’re out of that pathetic excuse of a school.”  
  
As Dolohov rose from the table and began to make his move to leave, Hermione’s heart fluttered. They needed that piece of parchment. It held the location of an upcoming attack.

Before she could allow herself to act upon her thought, Sirius stumbled into the fleeting Dolohov, spilling the firewhiskey from his tumbler down his chest. “Oh…’cuse me.” His words slurred as he reached out to mop up the mess he had made.  
  
The shove from Sirius sent Dolohov into a nearby chair, causing the note he was holding to float to the ground in the chaos. Moving quickly for the fallen parchment, Hermione snatched it up quickly and stuffed it into her pocket beneath the cloak as the sounds of a very upset wizard snapped at a drunk Sirius.  
  
“Watch it, you fool! I could have your fucking head.”  
  
“Whoa...whoa. I-s’a accident.” Sirius’s hands rose in surrender as he backed up from Dolohov.  
  
Shaking the Firewhiskey from his robes, he sneered at the retreating cloaked figure. When Barty rose from the table with his companion to jump on the cloaked Sirius, Dolohov’s hand rose, gesturing for the boys to sit. “Don’t...a drunk is not worth your energy.” He spit in the direction of Sirius as he watched him retreat. “You have to stay out of trouble while you’re in school. The Dark Lord has plans for you Barty, he would not be happy if they were disrupted,” he warned the teenager before taking his leave. His cloak billowed behind him as he moved to the door, completely unaware of the missing parchment.

Hermione watched the scene with her breath held. As Dolohov took his leave from the bar she moved to follow after him, no longer trying to conceal her footsteps as she darted for the door. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, the cold night air bit against her face. She pushed the cloak over her shoulders as she withdrew her wand. Her gaze fell upon the snow and she easily found his footprints leading away from the village.

The vinewood wand was firm in her grip as she prepared herself for a fight, body turned to make chase after the Death Eater. She was so focused on stopping Dolohov she had not noticed the sound of someone following her.

“ _Hermione!”_

She halted her pursuit and turned to find Sirius running to her in the street, his own wand drawn, prepared to defend the witch, or stop her. She could not tell which. “Stop yelling. You’re going to draw attention to us,” she hissed as she moved toward him.

She pulled him between two empty storefronts and she put a finger to her lips. The gesture silenced the wizard who looked furious at her actions. His body shrugged out of her grasp and his hand rose, resting against the building beside Hermione’s head. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Gray eyes raged like a thunderstorm as he caught her gaze. “You can’t just attack a wizard in public! We’re not at war here.”  
  
Hermione’s heart froze. This Sirius was so young, he had not gone through the same loss that caused his opinion in the future to become dramatically different. Opening her mouth to retort him she stopped herself, pulling her eyes from his she looked down at the wand still held firmly in her hand.  
  
“We need to go somewhere we can talk,” she whispered. Ducking her head beneath his imposing arm, she popped her head out of the alcove to look down the street before back to him. “Can you Apparate from here, or do we need to get further out?”  
  
“I think I can manage.” Sirius’ tone indicated he was clearly annoyed. The arm bracing him against the building dropped and he guided her body towards his. His hand slid across her waist and curled around to rest upon her lower back as he prepared to Side-Along her.

He paused, waiting for her hands to rest against his chest, and as her fingers curled into the fabric of his robe, the familiar pull of Apparition overtook Hermione yet again. Except this time, she did not scold herself for leaning into him. Her forehead pressed into his sternum. As she allowed herself deep breaths to cope with the sickening speed of travel she noticed his scent. Tobacco, conditioned leather and something she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps Cedar? It was a rich, musky fragrance, and the combination made her mouth dry. Although she would tell herself later that it was the Apparition, definitely not her best friend's Godfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the beginning! Let me know what you think so far. Again, big thank you to Islndgurl777 for beta-ing.


	3. Casa Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**January 1st, 1979 – 06:00 – Sirius’s Flat**

Sirius had taken her to one of the few places he knew he could have open dialog without fear of being overheard or interrupted, his flat. He had moved out of 12 Grimmauld Place immediately following graduation. His family residence had not been his home since his 3rd year, but more of a formality until it was socially acceptable to live on his own.

He had rented a small flat in Puddlemere mainly due to the fact it was so close to the Potters’ in Godric’s Hollow, but also because he knew it would infuriate his family due to the proximity it was to Muggle villages.

When they had first arrived Hermione was a shocked. She had never heard of Sirius living anywhere but Grimmauld Place, and Azkaban, although the latter couldn’t really be considered much of a home. His flat was much like the younger man she began to know over the past couple hours, a controlled chaos. Muggle and Wizard posters plastered the walls, his furniture was second hand, well-worn but still having plenty of life left since someone had taken the time to patch up the holes with swatches of mismatched fabric. Take-out boxes and butterbeer bottles littered the surface of various tables and counter-tops.

Hermione’s nose twitched as the smell of stale tobacco and alcohol invaded her senses. His lack of housekeeping caused his residence to have an odor that one would only associate with young, single wizards. Dislodging herself from Sirius’s grasp she scanned his living room. “Where are we?”

“I couldn’t take you back to the Ministry right now, could I?” Moving away from Hermione, Sirius moved toward the kitchen. He shrugged out of his black robes, tossing them over the back of his couch. If he was embarrassed by his living conditions he did not show it in the slightest. 

Sirius disappeared down a hallway away from the witch, not bothering to give her the grand tour to his flat as he was clearly not in the mood to play host.

Hermione moved towards a small wooden dining table that was tucked in the corner before his kitchen. Reaching out she began to clear the tabletop of the glass bottles that littered the surface. Muggle beer and butterbeer alike, it was obvious the wizard did not discriminate when it came to his favorite flavor of poison.  
  
“Feel like explaining what the bloody fuck you thought you were going to do if you caught up to Dolohov? They told me you were supposed to be the smart one.” His voice broke the chorus of glass clinking together as she tossed the trash in his bin. Her fingers curled tightly around the bottle she held, nails pressing into the soft paper label on the bottle and her teeth clenched.

“He’s not a good man, Sirius.”  
  
“You have no way of knowing that.”  
  
Dark eyes lifted to watch the wizard return to the living quarters, his black hair held at the base on his neck in a messy bun. His feet were bare and his shirt was discarded, leaving him in a thin gray undershirt tank. As he walked to the witch his hand went out, snagging the bottle from her grasp and the bin was picked up from the floor where she had placed it next to the table.

“Really? Because nice wizards meet students to recruit them in Muggle attacks? Must have missed the memo from the Minister,” she snapped toward the wizard, small fist slamming against the table to gather his attention as he has turned his back to her. “They weren’t meeting to discuss marks, Sirius. How fucking naive are you? He’s using intel from students to plan attacks!”  
  
Sirius’s head turned over his shoulder to look at Hermione. Her eyes ignited with what he could only assume was passion. “Fuck...you sure?” Setting the bin back in the entryway to the kitchen, Sirius placed his hands on the linoleum counter-top as he chewed on his bottom lip, letting the information process.  
  
“He said he would make sure to get the other wizard there to _help take care of our pest problem._ What else could he be referring to?” Her tone began to soften from the rage that had previously filled her. Reaching up Hermione removed the robe that was pooling on her back. Small hands carefully folded the shimmering fabric into a neat square before she tucked it away in her crossbody. “I’m pretty sure Dolohov wouldn’t ask students to leave Hogwarts to discuss a rodent issue. Although tell me, Sirius, what do you think that means since we have no way of knowing he is a bad wizard until he kills someone?” Rolling her eyes, she shrugged herself from her burgundy jacket and she placed it over the back of a chair that sat around the table they had just cleared. Hands smoothed the fabric out over the wooden frame of the chair before her fingers curled around the frame. “That man is evil, and I should have stopped him.”  
  
Sirius cleared his throat at her admission, pushing off the counter and he moved into the kitchen. “I need a drink.” Beginning to open cabinets the wizard was on the hunt for something stronger than the buzz beer provided.  
  
Reaching into her pocket she fished out the crumpled parchment. Hands attempted to smooth out the wrinkles before she set it down on the table, eyes dancing over the elegant script that spread across the parchment. How could something that was promising so much destruction look so beautiful. The penmanship was clearly of someone who came from a pureblood family, someone whose parents valued the old traditions. “They’re planning to attack next month. The note says outside Salisbury.” Sliding into her chair her eyes lifted from the crumpled parchment to watch Sirius make his way back towards her, a half drained bottle of Ogden’s Finest and two glass tumblers in his hands.  
  
Setting the tumblers on the table in front of Hermione he poured two generous glasses of the amber liquid. Tossing the cap on the table, he set the bottle down to pick up his tumbler. Eyes shut tight as the Sirius took his first drink, the slow burn of the Firewhiskey leaving a trail down his throat into his stomach. Reaching out he took the paper from her, eyes scanning the note and began to read it, occasionally pausing to drink more the further down the note he got.

Setting his drained glass down on the table, gray eyes lifted to look at Hermione who sat at the table watching him. “You gonna drink that?” Gesturing to the second drink he poured. Hermione shook her head, and reaching out she nudged the glass toward him.

Guiding his body into the seat next to her, he leaned across the table, elbows propping himself up as he took a drink from the second glass. He set the paper down between the two of them after a moment, his empty hand joining his other to curl around the tumbler as it rested on the table of front of him.  
  
“So they’re wanting to go to this concert and…”  
  
“I would imagine do as much damage as possible.”

Sirius flinched in response to her words.

“Last month there was an attack on a group of Muggles in London. Dolohov could be with the same group.” Lifting his glass he took another drink, allowing the liquor to settle in his belly before he continued.  “The lot call themselves Death-”

“-Eaters,” she finished for him. “You have to notify the Order.” Leaving Sirius, she moved away from the table to pace in front of his couch, fingers from her left hand brought up against her mouth as she chewed on her nails in thought. “Do you have something I can use to write a letter?”

Sirius watched the witch, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the table. “In the bureau. What do you mean I have to tell the Order? Why don’t you just report it?” He watched her move across the living room to the dark wooden desk and struggle to open the rolltop. Rising from his chair he moved to to assist the witch. “Here, I got it.” Nudging her out of the way with his hip, nimble fingers jiggled the knob just slightly before the rolltop finally gave way to his ministrations. Reaching through the mess he plucked a small sheet of parchment from the pile as Hermione moved to grab a quill and a capped bottle of ink.

“Thanks.” Hand took the parchment from him before she turned back to the table they had been sitting at. “I am writing a letter to Alastor to report what happened, but you’ll need to tell the others,” she explained as she slid the tumblers out of the way. She unrolled the parchment and sat down. “You can do it on your own, right?” Her brow perked at him before she uncapped the inkwell and dipped the quill inside.

“Can I do it on my own?” he scoffed and dropped onto the couch, boots kicking up to rest upon the coffee table before him. “Of course I can, but I figured you’d stick around a bit longer. Especially since you were ready to take out Dolohov back in Hogsmeade.”

“Sorry to disappoint. The Ministry is keeping me busy.”

“Don’t worry, Little bird. You can make up for it later.”

Hermione looked up from her letter to the couch, watching Sirius begin to flip through a magazine lazily. Her eyes rolling as her head shook, not bothering to respond to his last remark.

* * *

**January 1st, 1979 - 15:00 - Sirius’s Flat**

Midday crept up on Hermione, and she knew that her time in the past was coming to an end. Plucking the Time-Turner from inside her shirt she watched the deep purple grains travel slowly through the hourglass, the amount left on top was dwindling away.

The soft sound of snores had replaced the scratching of her quill hours ago as Sirius napped on his sofa, his left arm draped across his eyes to shield the midday sun. Hermione moved across the living room from the armchair she had occupied while he napped. Approaching the sleeping wizard her fingertips went out, gently brushing the soft black hair away from his forehead. This Sirius was so different than the man she had known. So young, and still full of hope that the world was a good place. Her heart ached knowing that the man she knew had experienced so much loss. This was a chance for her to fix that; to give him, and the rest of the Marauder's, a chance at living through their early twenties with less pain, and to give Harry his parents back.

As her fingertips brushed through his hair it caused Sirius to drop his arm from over his eyes. His head turned towards her palm in his sleep to seek comfort. He really was handsome. The lines and weathered skin were many years away, and what was there before they appeared was a sight to behold. The Black family had many years of selective breeding to thank for the angular jaw, sloped nose, and beautiful pitch black hair. Sirius was the perfect example of what they had hoped to gain, aesthetically speaking, from their marriage choices. His magic was powerful but that smart mouth of his made him the black sheep of the pureblood family that valued obedience over mischief.

Hermione had always found herself drawn to the older wizard when she was younger. He had so much knowledge and skill. She had yearned to learn what she could from him, and he was happy to tell her his exploits, even the ones a young teenage girl shouldn’t hear. That same draw was here now, only this time it was far more carnal.

Licking her bottom lip, her fingers trailed across his cheek, feeling the soft stubble roll beneath the tips of her fingers. As they reached his chin, Sirius’s head dropped, his lips brushing across the delicate skin of her digits. The feeling of his hot breath caused her skin to ignite. She wanted to pull back, but against her better judgement she stayed, instead sinking down to sit on the edge of the couch. Her hand pulled away from his lips as he shifted toward her on the couch, cheek coming to rest against her knee.

“Sirius…” Her voice broke the silence of the room softly, trying to encourage him to wake as he nuzzled in close to her. Reaching out she brushed his hair away from his face, tucking the soft strands behind his ear before her hand dropped to his shoulder, gently squeezing. “I have to go.”

When he didn’t respond to her words or gentle nudge she sighed. Beginning to stand, she made it only a single pace away before her hand was caught by his. His long fingers curling around her hand and he tugged gently at her to prevent her from leaving.

“Will you be at the Prewitt’s next week?” Sleepy gray eyes cracked open and he looked up to her.

“I’m not sure, perhaps.” _‘Liar.’_

“Good….I need to keep you out of trouble.” Smirking he let his thumb graze over the tops of her knuckles in a intimate gesture that caused her cheeks to redden. “Stay safe Little bird. No chasing bad wizards.”

Slowly pulling her hand from his she brought it up to push her curls from her face, a small laugh leaving her as she did. “I’ll try my best…. Stay out of trouble yourself.”

Sirius nodded, letting his arm drop back to the couch as he pulled a throw pillow up against his chest, curling his body around it as he shifted back into a comfortable position. “I’ll do my best. Trouble’s so much fun though.” With a yawn, he began to drift to sleep again, allowing the warmth of the midday sun peaking through his curtains to coax him back into his dreams.

Hermione watched him for half a moment before retreating. In her haste to leave, she forgot to pick up her jacket from his dining table. As she exited the flat, the cold winter air bit against her face. She debated going back to retrieve it, but knew that it would only be moments before the pull of time returned her to 1999.

Moving quickly away from his flat, the snow crunched under her dragonhide boots. Arms curled around her body to combat the cold as she moved down an alleyway between two large apartment buildings. Dodging trash bins and old moldy furniture, she tucked herself against the stone wall of the building.  
  
Her eyes closed as she pressed the back of her head against the cold wall, letting the frigid air clear her cheeks of the blush she’d held only moments ago. What the hell was her body doing? This was Sirius Black, Harry’s Godfather, a man 20 years her senior (in her timeline, of course) and definitely not a wizard to blush over!  
  
While scolding herself for the girlish behavior her body was allowing to happen, she pulled the Time-Turner from her shirt. The last remaining bits of purple sand hung on the cusp of tumbling to join the rest. Her body would be freed from the bitter cold in just a moment, but that warm feeling that had begun burned in her core at the thought of the raven haired wizard she’d just left would not subside as easily.

* * *

 

**January 1st, 1979 - 19:00 - Godric’s Hollow**

Sirius kicked the snow off his boots as he entered James and Lily’s home. Hands rubbed together bring the blood back to his frozen digits. He had successfully removed most of the sticky white powder from his boots before he moved further into the home, knowing Lily would not have been thrilled if he had tracked in snow. The fragrance of fresh bread baking that wafted through their house caused his stomach to growl in approval.  
  
“James?” He called out, unwinding a thick scarf from around his neck and he set it on the entry table. Looking into the mirror that hung above it his hand rose to brush the glistening specs of snow out of his hair.  
  
“He’s at the Ministry,” a soft feminine voice called from deeper into the home. Down the hall, Lily popped her head out from the kitchen, her body hidden inside the other room. “You alright?” Her brows knit together before she turned back into the kitchen, beckoning her friend to follow her inside with a small motion of her hand.  
  
Sirius smiled as he moved down the hallway, passing framed photos of their friends on his way. “Yeah, just wanted to talk.” As he moved into the kitchen, he leaned against the entryway, hands fisting in the pockets of his jeans. “Did he say how long he’d be?”

Lily was moving around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the dinner she had prepared. Red hair hung down to her waist, swaying in time with her movements. She turned her attention to the clock above her before glancing over her shoulder to her friend. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.” Waving her wand, dishes began to float from the cabinet and set themselves upon the small wooden table.

Sirius’s smile widened as he counted three dinner plates. The witch knew him too well. In their years together Hh’d never questioned Lily’s loyalty to James, but had she found herself a single witch Sirius would have jumped at the opportunity. She was everything he’d wished his own family has been. Kind, gentle and understanding. Since they left Hogwarts, he had a standing reservation at the Potter’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Anytime he showed up Lily would shower him with food as she knew he wasn’t the best at feeding himself while on his own.  
  
As he crossed the room to the table, he pressed a soft kiss against the redhead’s cheek in a friendly hello, his hand squeezing her shoulder gently before he pulled away and sat in his seat at the table. Reaching out fingers plucked a hot roll from the basket that sat before him.  
  
“Met a new recruit last night.” His fingers broke open the soft roll and he popped a bit in his mouth as he reclined back, tipping the chair up on the back two legs. “We got word of an upcoming attack in Salisbury. Some Muggle concert.”  
  
A soft gasp left the witch and she turned to look at Sirius, hands reaching behind her to guide her frame back to the countertop behind her. “It’s getting more frequent. Do you think it’s the same group?”  
  
Sirius nodded his head in confirmation as his eyes dropped to the roll before he deposited it on the plate in front of him. “Death Eaters, Lily… might as well call them their proper name.” He dropped his chair down to all four legs, letting the clatter echo off of the walls of the kitchen.  
  
“It’s been reported to Moody. We’re going to try and stop it.” Clearing his throat, gray eyes lifted to Lily’s face to watch a frown appear on her lips. “Don’t do that Lil’s… You know we have to try. That’s _our_ job.”

“It is not **your** job, Sirius Black! You’re still in training, just like James.”  
  
Sirius scoffed, his fingers sliding through his hair to push it from his face. “Training, pfft….I’m not a bleedin’ paper pusher! I didn’t sign up to be someone’s lackey.” His eyes rolled as her heard her make a small noise at his swear. “I’ll be careful. Besides, nothing bad will happen. It's not like we’re at war.”  
  
“According to who? Your boss? Because I’m pretty sure there wouldn’t be an Order if we weren’t.” Lily turned her back to Sirius as she heard the timer to the oven ding, letting her know the casserole inside was finished.

Sirius knew she was right, but with the Ministry refusing to believe the attacks on Muggles were connected there was little they could do officially.  
  
“Don’t tell James,” he said quickly, moving to assist her as she opened the oven. Sirius plucked the oven mits from her hands, shaking his head as he tossed them on the counter. “You’re a witch Lily Evans. Why do you insist on using these Muggle things still?” Waving his wand the bubbling dish floated to the table, setting down in the center gently.  
  
“Just because you _can_ use magic doesn’t mean you _should_ ,” she reminded him, clicking her tongue at as her body glided around his to the fridge. “If you didn’t want to tell him about this attack, why are you here? Not that I mind the visit, of course.” Making her way to the table she deposited three bottles of butterbeer near the casserole. Reaching for one she twisted the cap off and turned to look at Sirius as she took a drink.  
  
“What? I gotta have a reason to come spend time with my best mate and his lovely fiance?” A soft laugh left Sirius as he watched Lily roll her eyes at him, red hair swaying as she shook her head yes.  
  
“Alright...I had a question about school,” he explained. Walking to the table Sirius picked up his own bottle. Twisting the cap off he tossed the metal disc on the table without a second thought. “Does the name Hermione sound familiar?” 

* * *

**January 1st, 1999 - 19:00 - Ministry of Magic**

The travel back wasn’t as nauseating as the first time shift. Hermione had managed to pull herself together within a matter of seconds. She stopped by her flat to shower and change into more comfortable, and current, clothes before returning to the Ministry to confront Kingsley.

Arriving at his office she paced his waiting area as his receptionist announced her arrival to the Minister.

“Send her in,” she heard the rough voice call from behind the door. The toe to her black flat tapped against the limestone floor in impatience as she waited for the receptionist to return to allow her back.  
  
“Go ahead, Auror Granger. The Minister is ready for you.” Hermione didn’t wait for her sentence to even finish before she moved around the blonde witch. Reaching for the door she pushed it open and closed it behind her with a soft snap.

Kingsley sat behind his large wooden desk, paperwork that required his signature scattered about the surface. He didn’t even lift his eyes to look at her. “Go ahead and take a seat, Miss Granger.” His quill moved about the parchment unrolled behind him, red ink marking corrections to the legislature before him.  
  
“Don’t let me interrupt you from your work, Minister.” Her voice was laced with indignation as stood before his desk, arms crossing over her bosom.

Kingsley’s dark eyes lifted from the parchment to fall upon the seething witch and he paused a moment. Reaching out he deposited the quill into the red inkwell before he slowly slid the parchment aside.  
  
“Is there a problem, Hermione?” His use of her given name was supposed to bring her down from her anger, but it only ignited her more.  
  
“Cut the bullshit, Kingsley!” Two steps brought the witch to his desk and her hands pressed into the flat surface as she leaned down. “Do you realize who they sent to greet me?” Her brow lifted, threatening him to continue his naivety.

Kingsley brought his hands forward to steeple his fingers together in front of him as he watched Hermione. “I have read your report from 1979.” His voice was flat, not giving into the emotion she was so clearly willing to let consume her. “Is there a problem?”  
  
“A problem? No, not at all.” Sarcasm dripped off her words as she let out a bitter laugh, turning around she allowed herself to lean back on his desk as her hand rose to push the damp curled back from her line of sight. “Working with my best friend's dead godfather has always been a dream of mine.”

“I warned you this would be difficult, Hermione.” This time his voice was soft with sympathy. Hermione heard him move from behind his desk and her head turned the opposite direction of his footsteps. His hand came to rest upon her shoulder, the way a friend would comfort one another.

“Difficult?” her voice cracked. “Kingsley. I am helping someone I know who is going to die…”

“That is not entirely true. You have the power to change that.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” she snorted, eyes rolling before turning to look at the older wizard. “It’s now up to me if they live or die.”

A small sad smile fell upon his lips and he nodded in agreement with her assessment of the mission she was sent on. “I wouldn’t have sent you if I did not think your skill was worthy of the challenge.” His hand left her shoulder to fall into his lap as he shifted, turning his body to face her more. “I couldn’t ask Harry to go. He’d complicate things...and I needed someone whose skill and sensitivity to the subject were of equal measure to their character. I am asking a lot, I know. I am not stupid to think this to be a difficult task, but I am not asking as the Minister, now, Hermione. I am asking as your friend, are you going to be able to do this?”

Brown eyes shimmered at the gesture Kingsley made and she nodded, hand lifting to tuck her curls behind her ears as a soft sigh left her lips. “Yes...I need to do this. If not for the innocent lives it’ll save, then for Harry.”

Kingsley smiled at her words and he let out a soft breath before rising off his desk. Walking across his office he made his way to his bookshelf, pulling down an old tome from the shelf.  
  
“How did you do it, Kings?” she asked, watching the older wizard scan over the text in his hand.

Kingsley lifted his head to look back to Hermione, confusion washing over his face as he waited for her to explain her question.  
  
“Work with Sirius. He is absolutely-”  
  
“-Devious?” Kingsley offered, chuckling slightly.  
  
“No, actually. Just frustrating,” Hermione corrected, allowing herself to laugh for the first time since her arrival back in 1999.  
  
“He was a challenge, even when you knew him,” Kingsley explained, shutting the tome in his hand with a soft thud and he moved towards his desk. Moving his office chair back, he sat down, setting the faded book upon his desktop.  
  
“Yes, but I never had to try to reign him in,” she reminded him, glancing over her shoulder, eyes scanned the cover of the old text before lifting to the wizard. _Laws of Time and Life_ the cover read, with ancient runes carving around the beautiful calligraphy.  
  
“You’ll figure it out, Miss Granger.” Fingers plucked the quill from the inkwell and he moved to pull the parchment back to him to jot down a quick note upon the legislation. “You managed Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter just fine if I remember correctly.”  
  
“Sirius is nothing-” Her eyes closed as the image of an unbroken Sirius sleeping on his couch swirled in her mind. Licking her bottom lip a shaky breath was exhaled. She cracked her eyes open to look down at the tips of her fingers that had brushed his lips. As a shiver ran down her spine she finally allowed herself to continue.“-like Harry or Ronald.”  
  
Kingsley glanced up, watching Hermione’s eyes glaze over as she was pulled into her thoughts and he paused his writing, lips thinning out just slightly. “No, but he is still a young man, Hermione. Help guide him down the right path as you did your friends.”  
  
Brown eyes opened as his words brought her back. Nodding she moved off his table, beginning towards the door of his office. “Of course. Thank you, Minister.” The formality of their business relationship slipping back into place.  
  
“Miss Granger?” Kingsley called out as her hand touched the brass door knob. Her head shot over her shoulder to the older wizard who had not listened his eyes from parchment. “The Time-Turner,” he reminded, glancing up only a moment to catch her gaze before he gestured to the bookshelf. “Please drop it off before you leave. I wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”  
  
“Oh.” Her hand rose to touch the chain that was still around her neck and she pulled the Time-Turner off, crossing his room and she set it down gently upon the shelf. “Of course. Sorry, I didn’t think.”  
  
“Not a problem, Miss Granger.”  
  
“I..uh.. I need to return soon.” Clearing her throat as she made her way back to the door she paused to watch the Minister.  
  
“We knew you would. A month is what the report said, correct?” He glanced up at the witch, watching her nod in confirmation. “Very well. You can pick it up from The Department of Mysteries then. I’ll leave word.”

A small smile lifted upon her lips and she nodded. “Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she took her leave from the office. She could do this. Save the world and keep it together. If Kingsley believed in her, then what reason did she have for self-doubt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to start off by thanking Islndgurl777, yet again. Without her, this work would be much less coherent. 
> 
> I've really been enjoying the dynamic between Hermione and Sirius, and have written three more chapters from Saturday to today, so at this rate I can comfortably release 2 chapters a week. *fingers crossed* I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stick around to see where this crazy ride takes Hermione. As always, feel free to leave questions or words of encouragement! <3
> 
> ~ MM


	4. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**February 7th, 1979 - Tutshill, West Country - 09:00**

It had been unseasonably warm in 1979, causing the snow drift that usually littered the countryside to disappear and greengrass was left in its place. Hermione landed just outside the small wizarding community of Tutshill, choosing a vast field behind an abandoned Muggle farm to conceal her arrival.

The location for her arrival had been set in correspondence between the Kingsley and the original Order during the month. They chose the outskirts of the wizarding community based on the fact that her arrival would go unnoticed. Although, if she was spotted by a fellow magic user, it would appear as if she Apparated into the field to the untrained eye. 

Dragonhide boots crunched the earth beneath her as she moved through the waist-high wheat. The soft breeze of the morning blew through the grain, causing it to roll like the ocean. If she were here under different circumstances Hermione might have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the countryside around her.

Removing her hand from her sweater’s pocket, she let the tips of her fingers dance against the soft grass that beat against her hips. Riotous chestnut curls hung around her face loosely. She had not bothered to tame the beast before her departure this morning.

Sirius was on the other side of the field on the dirt road awaiting her arrival. His lithe body leaned upon the black motorbike that was still warm from the early morning ride. A cigarette hung loosely between his fingers at his side, gray eyes drinking in the sight of the witch as she moved through the field before him. A slow grin began to spread as he wished he could burn this image in his mind forever. The way the light danced off her curls, the carefree appearance of normally high-strung witch was a welcome sight.

He had expected to see Hermione at the Prewitt’s earlier this month, and he would be lying if he didn’t admit the disappointment he felt when she did not show. After their initial meeting Sirius had gone to his friends to inquire about Hermione, wanting to know more about any witch who felt brave enough to attack a presumed Death Eater and stand up to him about it. Lily and James insisted that they did not have a peer named Hermione while they attended Hogwarts, and the latter had taken to teasing him about a make-believe girlfriend, knowing it would get under the Animagus’ skin. James referring to Hermione as his girlfriend didn’t bother Sirius; they all knew his feeling about relationships, but the fact her existence was questioned bothered him. He had planned to prove them wrong at the Order meeting, but with her lack of attendance, it only increased the teasing, which now began to include Peter.

He had begun to wonder if she would show up today. The burning question caused him to toss and turn the night before, not finding the relief of sleep until he had shifted into his dog form and chased the moon ‘til it disappeared when early daylight broke.

Hermione’s chest tightened as her line of vision fell upon Sirius. The hand that had been touching the tops of the grass rose to give a friendly wave. She had told herself that those butterflies in the pit of her stomach were juvenile, and simply a schoolgirl crush on him. Determined to not give into the silly emotions, she had successfully buried them over the last month, but seeing him before her now made them reignite. It was as if his mere existence was designed to make her feel drunk on teenage lust: his lean frame, the way his black hair hung just in his gray eyes, and that damn leather jacket.

“Glad you could make it,” Sirius called out, pushing off the metal frame of the motorbike and moving to the wooden fence. Lifting his leg, he straddled it, perched waiting for her to move closer.

“Hm?” As she moved towards the fence line she paused before Sirius, cocking her head slightly. Wand hand moved from her pocket, leaving the vinewood nestled in safely against her hip as she reached out to grasp the wooden fence.

“You didn’t make to Gideon and Fabian’s.” Reaching out Sirius’s hand snagged Hermione’s before she could make contact with the fence, his fingers curling around hers.As their gazes finally met he winked to the smaller witch. “Might have assumed you were avoiding me but come on. Look at me.”

The skin on his hands was rough; calluses were even present on the tips of his fingers. Her hand slid against his for support as she moved to climb the fence. The friction caused goosebumps to rise on her arms in response. “I couldn’t make it. Didn’t think I would have to send word.” She allowed Sirius to guide her over the fence. His free hand flicked his cigarette in the middle of the dirt road beside them before it came to rest upon her lower back, gently guiding her to the dirt road before he moved off of the fence to join her on the other side. The simple gesture caused her stomach to knot in hope that it was more than just a friendly helping hand, and instead him wanting to touch her.

“Suppose you don’t. Would have been nice though.” Sirius rounded his motorbike and mounted the Triumph. His hand disappeared into the pocket of his leather jacket and the set of keys were withdrawn. Sliding the key into the ignition of the motorbike, it roared to life.

Hermione paused beside Sirius, watching him with a skeptical expression. “You don’t expect me to get on that, do you?” Her hand gestured to the motorbike as he turned to watch her. “You don’t even have any helmets.”

“Aren’t you a witch?” His hand extended to her in a silent challenge.

“That’s a stupid question, Sirius. Regardless of magic, there is something called safety.”

“Never been in an accident. Besides, not like we have much traffic out here.” His head turned to survey the emptiness of the countryside around him in an exaggerated fashion before falling on her again. This time his brow lifted and he reached back to pat the leather seat behind him. “Come on. It’ll be fun, promise.”

She hesitated for a moment, debating his logic before she finally gave in. His smile widened as she moved and slipped onto the bike behind him.

Small hands slid around his waist, lacing her fingers together at the center of his abdomen. She could feel the firmness of his muscles hidden beneath his shirt. Sirius’s eyes dropped to look at her hands, laughing as he noted her firm grip. Shifting one of his hands from the angled handlebars, he let his much larger hand curl around clasped ones, easily enveloping the two in one of his own. “Don’t worry Little bird, I won’t let you get hurt.” Before moving his hand back to the handlebars, he gave her a gentle squeeze.

Hermione’s eyes closed tight as she felt the motorbike rumble to life between her legs. As they took off down the road, the morning air whipped around them, causing her curls to blow in response. Hermione leaned forward, her arms tightening their hold around his frame as they went faster, her chest pressed tight against his back. “Be careful,” she called into the wind, her mouth close to the back of his right ear.   


She could only hear a laugh in response as he pressed the pedal more with his mahogany boot, and the bike lurched faster in response down the dirt road, causing bits of earth and rock to scatter about behind them as he lead them away from the abandoned farmhouse and towards the city.

 

**February 7th, 1979 - Bemerton, England - 19:00**

They had arrived at a safehouse the Order secured hours earlier. The house sat on the outskirts of Salisbury in a small Muggle village. Upon their arrival, Hermione insisted upon placing a series of wards to prevent any unwanted visitors, and a Disillusionment Charm to prevent Muggles and Wizards from noticing their activity inside the small thatched-roof cottage.

It was a smaller home, only having a single bedroom, bathroom and combined kitchen and living room. The house was built by Muggles, and not yet updated with magical extension. It was obvious the property was newly acquired by the Order, due to the fact that Muggle appliances and literature were still present inside.

Hermione had spent most of the day preparing for their mission the following day, making sure her purse contained the proper potions and ointments needed, just in case. When she had been Horcrux-hunting with Harry and Ronald, it was these same ointments and potions that had helped keep them alive when they were recovering from the Snatchers and also helped save Ronald’s arm during his splinching accident.

Sirius had tried to help Hermione, but was told on several occasions to just leave her be. If it weren’t for the way he would catch her watching him from the corner of his eye, he would have assumed her annoyed with his presence. Not one to be cooped up with nothing to do, Sirius spent the afternoon alternating between running about outside in his Animagus form chasing local cats, and napping in the midday sun.

As nightfall had begun to set in, Hermione set down the spellbook she had been reviewing. Standing, she lifted her arms over her head, stretching up slowly, exposing the skin on her stomach in the process. The beginnings of her purple scar, left behind by Dolohov peaked out from beneath her top.   
  
The shaggy black dog lifted his head to watch the witch from his spot curled up on the couch. As she walked past him, her hand went out, fingers sliding through the soft fur on the top of his head. “I’m going to take a shower, mind going and grabbing us some dinner?” 

As she moved around the couch, she could hear the sound of his shifting back into human form behind her. She heard the sound of his joints popping back into place as he too stretched. “You don’t cook?” he teased, watching her grab her purse as she headed toward the bathroom. 

Glancing over her shoulder, her head shook. “Not unless you want to actually eat.” For all her skill with potions, charms, spells and hexes, Harry had once told her she could burn water. And although since living on her own she had managed to make a couple of recipes without burning down her flat, she doubted the cottage came equipped with the ingredients needed.    


Opening the bathroom door, she slipped inside and began to run the shower, waiting for the water to heat up as she searched for towels. “I’ve left some Muggle money on the countertop in the kitchen. Should be enough for something.”

Sirius followed the young witch, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom as he watched her pluck two fluffy white towels from beneath the sink. “Do you have a preference?” His hands fisted in his pockets as he waited.

Turning around she shook her head no, setting the plush towels down upon the counter top. “I think I saw a fish and chip place and Chinese just down the road. Whatever you find should be good, I’m not too picky.” Pulling her purse from her shoulder, she set it down next to the towels before moving to the door, her hand resting against the wood as she waited for him to back up so she could shut it.   
  
“Okay. I’ll be back shortly.” He didn’t step back, instead he looked past her, watching the steam beginning to roll from the clawed tub as the hot water bounced around the porcelain bowl. “Don’t worry about silencing the room, I don’t mind the noise. I know you’ll be  _ enjoying _ yourself in there.”

Hermione’s mouth opened, her eyes widening at his words. “Excuse me?”

Sirius’s face split into a wicked grin as he watched the witch before him process his implication. “Yeah, a hot shower after a long day is always nice. What did you think I meant, Hermione?” Wagging his brows at the witch, his body stumbled back as she gave him a shove away from the doorframe. 

“Sirius Black, you’re absolutely incorrigible,” she called to his retreating form as he backed away from the restroom entrance toward the countertop to collect the Muggle money she had left out.

“ _ Hermione Granger _ ,” he mocked her, laughing as he reached for his jacket, which was hung upon the coat rack. “You have quite the dirty mind.” Slipping the soft leather on top his frame, he pocketed the paper bills before moving to the door.

Hermione didn’t bother to watch him leave the cottage. Instead she closed the bathroom door and leaned back upon the painted wood. A soft huff left her as she let his words replay in her head. Removing her clothes, she turned to look in the mirror before her undergarments were taken off. Fingers touched the newest scar that graced her body, a spiderweb of small pink scars that ran along the outside of her left hip, permanent reminders of the modified Severing Charm that was used against her.

Prior to this mission, she was asked to apprehend Scabior when he was found to be in the Highlands attempting to gather sympathizers of the defeated Dark Lord. She had been so blinded by her rage to put the wizard behind bars that she went in without waiting for backup to arrive. She couldn’t let him slip through fingers like he had others. They battled in the streets of Wick, using the architecture of the Wizarding and Muggle village to their advantage. She had cornered him at the end of an alley, and before she could disarm the wizard, he had sent the spell at her. She attempted to dodge the incantation, and if it wasn’t for the rain falling it would have missed her entirely. 

Eyes ran up her frame, taking in the various scars and blemishes her body held. When she had first acquired a spell scar as a teenager, she was mortified. Who would want to look at the reminder of their failure? But as more began to add to her collection, she viewed them as a reminder to do better. The scars weren’t her failures, but rather lessons to learn from.

When the steam had begun to fog the mirror, she was pulled from her self-examination. Removing her undergarments she slipped into the shower to wash away the day.

By the time Hermione came out of the bathroom her skin was a shade of light pink from scrubbing. Black pajama pants sat low on her hips, a loose tank top and the sweater she wore earlier secure around her torso. The smell of Chinese food had filled the room, and Sirius was setting out the takeout boxes on the coffee table. “About time. I was about the start without you,” he teased and waved his wand towards the mess of takeout bags. They floated into the trash across the room, crossing paths with Hermione as her bare feet padded against the floor carrying her to the sofa.   
  
“There is still hot water left, if you wanted to shower,” she offered. Reaching out to pick up the closest box and she opened it to reveal a steaming pile of broccoli beef. Settling back into the couch she snagged a set of chopsticks and began to tuck in.   
  
“That's how to use these things?” Sirius’s voice broke the attention she had been paying to her meal, looking up to watch the wizard hold each chopstick in a different hand. “I always thought they were so you could stab the food...like a sword.” Leaning over he made a quick jab at the piece of broccoli to emphasize his point. Stealing the vegetable, he popped it into his mouth with a triumphant grin on his lips.

“No Sirius, they are not swords.” Setting down the container of on the coffee table she scooted closer to him to show the proper the placement of the wooden sticks in her hands. “They’re chopsticks,” she explained before helping him secure the utensils in his hands the right way. Reaching out she handed him the container she had just opened to test his new skill out. 

Watching him fumble with the food, a small laugh was hidden behind her fingers. “It takes some practice.” Consoling the wizard, it was her turn to reach out a pluck a piece of broccoli from the contain to pop in her mouth.   
  
“You’ve had practice, then?"

“Of course. I’m Muggle-born,” she explained. She had long ago lost the fear of uttering those words. At one time during her schooling she had been wary of the reaction people would have, but she knew Sirius would not even think twice about it, even during this era.

“Figured.” Growing frustrated with attempting to use both chopsticks, he tossed a single stick on the coffee table before stabbing at the meat in his container, returning to his old way of using the utensils. “Not many Pureblood’s keep Muggle money on them,” he explained, glancing up to watch her tuck into the container of chow mein, or at least that's what the woman at the restaurant called it. 

The pair ate in a comfortable quiet, occasionally breaking the silence as they battled over bits of food between their takeout containers. When Hermione had her fill, she relinquished the box to the hungry wizard. Curling up on the edge of the couch with one of the Muggle books in her lap she lost herself in the story, only half noticing when he left her to take a shower.

When the heater kicked on enough to bring the room up to a warmer temperature, she slipped the thick sweater off her shoulders, letting it pool around her waist. Fingers curled around the spine of the worn book, and she shifted her weight on the couch to rest her elbows on the arm of the sofa. As she lifted the book closer to her face, she was startled out of her concentration by a swear from Sirius who had exited the bathroom, freshly showered and only in a pair of burgundy sleep pants.

“What the bloody-fuck is on your arm, Hermione?”

_ ‘Oh shit.’ _ Clearing her throat, she licked her lips, closing the book and setting it down beside her on the end table. Turning over her arm, she let her eyes fall to the crude purple scar. She had hoped it would have faded like the rest, but Madam Pomfrey had told her long ago that due the dark magic the blade was imbued with, it would remain ever prominent and fresh.  “Mudblood.” 

Her eyes lifted when Sirius approached. Reaching out he took her arm, turning it towards him as he sank down on the couch next to her, letting his fingers touch the sensitive skin, tracing the letter M before halting as he swore under his breath. 

“Is this why you wanted to attack Dolohov?” Gray eyes held that familiar thunderstorm she had seen before, except this time the hurricane of fury wasn't directed at her.    
  
“He didn’t do this…” She couldn’t look him in the eye. She had been so lost in the book she had forgotten he was not aware of the scars she held. She didn’t want to see his expression, the one people held when they felt sorry for her. She knew that expression well by now. “Although I wouldn’t put it past him though, given the opportunity.”

“Who did this? We have to tell someone Hermione. They can’t get away with it.” Sirius set her arm back in her lap gently, as if he touched her too hard she could break. His hand lifted towards her face,  fingers nudging her chin up until their eyes met.   
  
“It’s been handled.” It was the truth, right? She had seen Bellatrix die by Molly’s hand at the Battle of Hogwarts. Sirius didn’t need to know it would not be for several years. “What’s done is done, and in all honesty, I’d rather not relive my past.”   
  
For the first time since he’d left the bathroom she allowed her eyes to lower from his to look at his frame. His pale skin shimmered in the artificial light of the living room. The muscles she had felt earlier under his shirt were more prominent that she had guessed. Although not like Ron’s, who had developed bulging muscles from his quidditch training, Sirius was lean, the shape of his muscles well defined under his skin. His chest had a small smattering of black hair that disappeared as you went further down over his abdomen and it did not reappear again until under his navel, trailing a thin line down below his pajama bottoms. His skin also held the beginnings of his tattoos, sprinkled across the pale skin, the black ink glistened in the light.

Her breath hitched as she ran her eyes over his torso, and before she could let her body react to the sight before her, she caught sight of a small circular scar on his shoulder. It was faded, as if it had been there for years, but the iridescent glow of scarring was present and undeniable. Reaching out her index finger touched the small scar before she realized similar ones were scattered about his torso. A couple more were upon his chest, and several on his ribs between various other small blemishes that she assumed were from his time marauding.

When she touched the small scar, Sirius jumped from the couch. His hand went up to cup over his arm instinctively and his eyes flashed with fear. Hermione’s hand hovered in the air, not moving from the place she had left it as the realization sunk in of what those small circular scars were:cigarette burns. She remembered seeing one tucked against his collarbone when they first met in the Shrieking Shack. She had assumed they were from his time in Azkaban, but clearly the wizard held painful secrets prior to his time in prison.   
  
“Don’t,” Sirius cut off Hermione before she could bring up the cause of his scar, shaking his head, wet hair clung to his forehead. “If you can hide from the past, I can too.” His voice was firm, letting her know this was not up for negotiation.

Hermione nodded, lips pursing together in thought before she looked up to the wizard who refused to meet her gaze. “Okay. When we’re together, we won’t ask about the other’s past?” The olive branch she offered him was truly more for her benefit. With this deal in place Hermione would not have to worry about explaining every detail of her life, which also included her time at Hogwarts. 

Sirius nodded, turning his back to the witch as he walked toward the front window, drawing the curtains that had been left open. He was avoiding her presence, trying desperately to wish her out of the room.

Picking up the discarded sweater, she pulled it into her lap, placing her bare feet on the floor before she stood. She could feel the tension heavy in the air, and would give him the space needed while he processed his emotions but first, she needed to let him know. “Sirius….I know it’s cliche, and a stupid Muggle saying, but our scars do make us stronger.” Her voice was soft. Choosing her words carefully, Hermione continued. “Don’t let them ruin your present. Let them serve as a reminder of the past.” Reaching out she picked up the book from the end table, tucking it against her chest as she began towards the bedroom. Ever the noble gentleman, Sirius has insisted she take the bedroom earlier in the day, telling her he preferred the couch. 

As she reached the threshold to the bedroom, Sirius called her name and Hermione paused. Turning around she faced the wizard, who was watching her go. His gray eyes did not reveal what emotions lay beneath them, although she could see him on verge of tumbling off the cliff into an abyss of pain. “I uh…. Just get some good sleep. We got a long day tomorrow.” His hand rose, sliding his black hair through his fingers and off his forehead. As it came to rest on the back of his neck, he gave her a weak smile.

Hermione returned the gesture of the smile, not wanting to press her luck. “You too.” Moving into the room Hermione left the door cracked, a habit she had retained from her time trapped under Malfoy Manor, as she did not like to be completely locked in a room with no way of escape. Climbing into the bed, she set the book down next to her. Fingertips slid over the fabric of the book cover, tracing the elegant script as her mind swirled with thoughts of the wizard who lay just outside her door. It didn’t take long for her to succumb to the need for sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to post this next chapter, I just might do so before the weekend is over instead of waiting until Wednesday. I hope you all are enjoying this so far. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> Beta <3 to: Islndgurl777 
> 
> & a huge thank you to my wonderful friend KnitKnitRead, who has helped me flesh out a lot of ideas I've had so far! <3


	5. Salisbury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**February 8th, 1979 - Salisbury - 20:00**

 

The morning was spent in a comfortable silence as they prepared for their departure into the Muggle city. Neither spoke of the night before, nor of the agreement that was made. Instead, they busied themselves with small preparations until it was time to leave. Taking the motorbike for the second time, Hermione did not question the safety, instead climbing on the back of the two wheeled vehicle and curling her body around Sirius’s.

Hermione wore clothes she usually reserved for long missions: a pair of black jeans that were tucked into the mid-calf dragonhide boots and a black sleeveless shirt that was hidden beneath a military style jacket that held two rows of silver buttons. Her wand was tucked into a thin holster that ran the length of her thigh. The dark attire was supposed to draw peoples’ attention away from the witch, while still remaining comfortable enough to move in. 

Sirius has chosen his own outfit with mobility and comfort in mind like the witch. Blue jeans that had seen better days were selected to accompany his favorite black leather jacket and a plain white shirt. The oil stains and holes that littered the blue denim let everyone know that this particular pair was his favorite, and he was not quite ready to retire them.

It took them less than two hours to arrive at the outdoor concert venue that had been set up at a park in the city. While Hermione calculated the cost of two tickets, Sirius took it upon himself to find (or create, she was not sure which) a hole in the fence and helped the pair inside the concert, telling her they should not have to pay because they were working when she insisted that this was illegal.

Unsure of the number of Death Eaters who planned on showing up, they thought it best to separate to cover more ground. The soft sounds of new wave pop had just began to fill the air when they parted ways. The sun was just setting, and soon the cover of darkness would provide a welcomed blanket of black to hide under. 

Hermione’s slender frame moved between the crowd of people, easily blending in as the pop music rattled her chest. Dark eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find anyone who looked like they might be out of place. As she made her way towards the back of the crowd, she felt the nudge of a snout against her thigh. Looking down, the Animagus pushed his head under her palm. “Really, Sirius? A dog would be more out of place in here than a wizard in traditional robes,” she teased over the music, laughing as his teeth nipped at her thigh in a silent retort. 

Pushing against the backs of her thighs, he led her towards the back of the venue. Hidden from the Muggles by the white tents of the vendors, he shifted before her, returning to his human form. “We’ve been here hours, and no one has shown,” he whined, leaning back against the chain-link fence. Digging through his pockets in frustration, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Opening the crumpled back, he fished out a single cigarette and placed it between his lips. The cigarette bounced with each syllable of the spell he muttered when his wand went up. With a soft crackle a small light appeared at the wand’s tip. Using the magical flame he ignited the cigarette before snuffing the flame so he could tuck the wand back into the pocket lining the inside of his jacket. 

“First off, that is a disgusting habit, you should stop. Secondly, they said they would be here. You saw the note, we have to stay until the end.”  Wrinkling her nose at the young wizard, she turned away from him to look out at the crowd. She knew he was right, it had been hours and there were still no signs of danger present. “It shouldn’t be too much longer now. Just enjoy the music. If it ends and no one has shown up, I’ll meet you at the entrance,” she offered, turning back to Sirius who was rolling his eyes, mid puff.   
  
“Enjoy the music? Are we listening to the same band? I wouldn’t call the Human League really enjoyable.” 

“Okay, then plug your ears. Either way, we have to stay.” Reaching out she took the smoke from his fingers, lifted her boot and she crushed the end against the sole before moving away from him, ignoring his protests as she moved back into the crowd.

The remainder of the concert was uneventful, short of a couple Muggle fights that broke out due to the over-consumption of alcohol. Although, those fights left Hermione unscathed. By the time the concert had ended, Hermione waited outside the entrance to the venue, scanning the crowd for Sirius when she heard the first crack of Apparition.

Hermione’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, before another followed, and then another. In total four cracks had echoed off the trees in the park surrounding them. Her wand was withdrawn from its holster instinctively and she whipped her head around, sending the curls that had fallen from her ponytail on the back of her head slapping against her cheeks. Hermione’s heart clenched as the familiar tingle of dark magic rippled through the cold night’s air. Before her eyes could locate the source of the magic that made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she heard the screams.

The screams incited a panic over the grounds, and soon groups of Muggles were running, colliding into one another as they seemed to be surrounded by what Hermione could only assume were Death Eaters. From all directions, she could hear the sizzle of spells, and the shouting of curses and charms echoed around her, barely audible over the chaos.

Hermione ran against the crowd, her body crashing into others as she struggled to get to the closest source of the terror. As a robed Death Eater came into her sight, she extended her wand in their direction, wanting to  prevent another spell from harming a nearby group of fleeing Muggles. “ _ Stupefy!”  _ A bright white light emerged from the tip of her wand and was hurled into the Death Eater’s back, causing her victim to fall to his knees before collapsing on the ground.

Running towards him, her next spell was cast without hesitation, “ _ Petrificus Totalus.” _ With the flick of her wand, the deadweight of the unconscious man snapped together. Although he was currently comatose, Hermione knew it would not be long before he woke and if she did not secure him, he would retaliate.

Squatting down when she reached the wizard, she pushed his body over onto his back, beginning to rifle through his robes to locate his wand that had gone missing from his grip in his fall to the asphalt. Hermione had barely begun her search when a blasting curse connected with the ground in front of her. The explosion caused her to propel backwards from the subdued Death Eater. Her body slammed into a vehicle parked a few yards behind her. Her back arched in pain as the ricochet from another blasting charm sent bits of asphalt and broken glass airborne, the small fragments hitting the soft skin on her face and exposed chest, leaving scratch marks in their wake.  

The sting of torn flesh on the palms of her hands and knees burned from the impact, but she would not allow herself the chance to inspect her minor wounds. Instead, she scrambled to her feet, snatching her wand that had been flown from her grasp in the blast. “Get out of here!” she shouted as she ran through the Muggles, watching various colors of light from spells fill the night air around her. As she pushed further into the throng of Muggles, she caught sight of the wizard who had sent the blasting curse her way. 

The silver mask of the Death Eater glistened in the light of the chaos as he cornered a Muggle woman against the fence, his thin crooked wand raised and she could hear the beginnings of an all too familiar curse being uttered from beneath his disguise. “ _ Cruc-” _ Just as his wand raised to complete the act, a burst of bright blue light exploded from the side, sending the masked Death Eater through the air before slamming against the side of a tree.

Hermione turned, her wand drawn toward the source of this blast, her heart pounding so violently in her chest it began to ache. Sirius stood a couple yards away from her, his own wand drawn on the crumpled Death Eater. Black hair was slick with sweat, his leather jacket hung loose around his shoulders and beneath it she could see blood soaking through his white shirt.

Sirius moved towards the terrified Muggle woman who had narrowly avoided torture. She was huddled down on the ground against the fence, her hands covering her ears as the ringing from the blast echoed in her ears. She was trembling, screaming when Sirius approached. Slowly approaching her, like she was a wounded animal, he held out his hand, offering her assistance from the dirty asphalt. He gently eased the woman back to her feet before motioning behind him towards the open park that many were still fleeing into. “Hurry, before he gets up.” His voice was firm, commanding even through the screams and carnage that ripped around them.

Black dragonhide boots crunched against the broken asphalt as she moved towards Sirius, wand drawn, prepared to defend herself if necessary should a curse or spell be sent their way. Her free hand went out and curled around his arm, causing the wizard to jump in response. Sirius turned quickly, putting his body between hers and the Muggle woman who had begun to run away, his wand thrust against her neck. 

“It’s me! Sirius, It’s ME!” she shouted, taking half a step back as her hands went up to show she meant no harm. As brown and gray eyes connected, Sirius seemed to relax. Lowering his wand from her throat, his eyes darted behind her, glancing around the stampede of terrified Muggles who were attempting to flee. 

“There’s two more that landed inside the fenceline.” 

Hermione nodded, knowing what his words implied. They needed go to back, they needed to save as many people as possible. “Did you call for backup?” Reaching out, her hand slipped into his, finger’s lacing together in a hasty hold as she began to run towards the toppled fence of the concert. If he responded she couldn’t hear it over the sizzle of spells. Wand hand rose and a quick slash of her wrist was accompanied by voice.  _ “Protego.” _ The invisible shield was held in front of them, hoping to prevent any head on attacks as they ran head first into the fray. 

As they reached the inside of the venue, the sound of tortured screams were everywhere. It was as if one of the Death Eaters had cast an Amplifying Charm on their victims to make sure everyone heard their cries of pain. Hermione’s hand slipped from Sirius’s as she noticed a Muggle man in the air, floating as he violently twitched under the Cruciatus Curse. Heading in the direction of the airborne Muggle, she took off. The blood rushing in her ears deafened the world around her, her vision tunneling on the Death Eater as she watched him cruelly laughing as the Muggle withered in pain above him.   
  
“ _ Bombarda Maxmia!” _ Her wand was aimed just past the wizard, to the scaffolding of the stage and an explosion of red rippled through the air, sending the Muggle and Wizard flying. Her wand lifted, trailing the flying body of the victim and just as he began to make his descent to the ground, a feather-fall charm was cast to dampen his landing. 

Her body slowed from its run as she worked to lower the Muggle to the ground. She didn’t notice the last coherent Death Eater a couple yards away. Before she could react, the rapid fire casting of “ _ Diffindo!” _ sliced towards her. The bright green charm lit up the space between them and she didn’t have time to react. 

The burst of light slammed into her right shoulder, causing her to scream in pain as the sleeve of her jacket was cut from her. The spell cut deep, almost the the bone, causing thick streams of blood to roll down her arm to her wrist. Stumbling back, she pulled the black sleeve that pooled around her wrist from her body before her hand went up to touch the wound. Inches deep, this wouldn’t heal very easy. Looking up, Hermione gulped. The Death Eater was advancing toward her, and her wand arm was injured. 

Attempting to lift her arm, another scream of pain left her. Her accuracy might be off, but she had to try. Switching wands to her left hand, she cast wordless blasts at the advancing Death Eater, not trusting herself to speak clear enough through the pain. The Death Eater deflected each spell with ease, advancing through her barrage of spells without faltering. His long hair hung from the bottom of his hood and mask, and twinges of red blood splattered in the blonde locks. 

Breaking through his shield, a severing charm smacked against his face, although due to her casting arm being injured and the spell being non-verbal, it only succeeded in knocking his metal mask askew. Gloved hand reached up to pull it from his face and he tossed it to the ground as a hollow laugh filled the air. Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. _ ‘Lucius.’  _

As a younger wizard, he looked much like his son. The same pointy face, blond hair and piercing gray eyes. The only difference between the two wizards at this age, was that Lucius had intended on murdering her, not just empty threats. The look in his eye and sneer across his face caused her heartbeat to quicken. Raising his wand to defend herself, Hermione attempted to cast a shield, hoping to prevent further damage, or worse, death. The words had barely left her mouth before she tripped over the wreckage around them, causing her to tumble backwards. Her wand was still lifted, trembling towards the advancing wizard, although the shield appeared to protect her from him. 

Lucius raised his wand over his head, his eyes burning with hatred as he opened his mouth to cast the most unforgivable spell known to wizardkind, but before he could get a syllable out, a giant blast of fire slammed into the wizard.

Sirius ran towards the pair, his wand sending spell after spell towards the retreating Death Eater as Lucius deflected what he could. When he reached Hermione, Sirius bent low, his arm scooping around her waist and he hoisted her up, holding her body tight against his. Hermione knew Sirius was going to Apparate from the battle from the way he held her, his fingers curling around her hip protectively. She began to fight against him, small fists connecting with his chest as she attempted to free herself from his firm hold. “Let me go!! We can’t let them leave!!” She screamed from pain due to her wounds, but also fear of Lucius successfully escaping with the others. 

“He’s gone, Hermione.” Sirius winced as she pushed against his open wounds on his chest. Pushing past the pain she caused, his other arm went out, careful to avoid her bleeding shoulder and he wrapped it around her torso to pull her close so she wouldn’t have the leverage to struggle. “Stop it! STOP IT!”

Her screams to free herself turns to cries as she let the pain wash over her. She had heard Lucius Disapparate already, but she told herself it was just the ringing in her ears from the explosion blasts. She couldn’t let them escape, that wasn’t alloted in her mission. She was here to make a difference. 

As Hermione’s body stilled in his arm, Sirius pulled her tighter against him, left hand sliding up to rest against the back of her head, fingers weaving into her thick curls that were matted with blood, soot and earth. With her snug against his chest, Sirius looked around to survey the area. The Ministry and Muggle police would be showing up shortly, and he knew they had to leave before they were questioned. He’d have to come back for his bike later. 

Hermione barely noticed the pull of Apparition; the pain from her shoulder that was radiating over her body seemed to blind her other senses. When the pair landed in front of the cottage they had spent the night in before, Hermione’s body was lifted from the ground. A howl of pain was let out as her injured shoulder was pressed against him, fresh blood that had coated her arm smeared against his clothing. Had she been in any other condition, she might protest.

Carrying the smaller witch inside, he slammed the door behind them. Depositing her on the couch, Sirius stripped from his jacket, letting to fall at his feet as began to unbutton her jacket. “Hermione, we have to stop the bleeding.” His voice broke through her pain that roared like a thunderstorm through her body, tears still streaming down her face.

Sirius’s hands worked the silver buttons undone before sliding the ruined clothing from her frame. Lifting his wand, he ran the tip across the center of her tank top, slicing the fabric in half before he rolled her onto her side to examine the gushing wound.

Hermione’s body began to shake as the adrenaline from their skirmish coursed through her body, desperate to find release. Reaching out, her arm hooked over the back of the couch, holding her body tight against it as she grit her teeth in pain. “Where are the potions?” When she didn’t respond, Sirius stood from where he was kneeling next to the couch. Grabbing her purse, he began to dig through the crossbody, pulling out various viles and trinkets in his search. “Hermione, where are the fucking potions?!” 

“Bottom left,” she grit out, forehead beginning to bead with sweat as the nausea set in. She was losing blood, and fast. If Sirius didn’t close the wound soon she would pass out. 

She heard the sound of her purse being dropped to the floor and his footsteps moving back towards her. Assuming he had found what he was looking for, she prepared for the stinging pain that would come as soon as the Essence of Dittany touched her skin.

Sirius removed the doppler, shaking hands depositing drops onto her broken flesh. As she whimpered in pain he set the medicine down behind him on the table, his hand moving up to stroke against her spine as he moved to take off his shirt, pressing the stained fabric against the blood that had pooled underneath her to soak up the mess. “It’s okay….it’ll be okay little bird.” His voice was soothing, although shaky from his own fear.

As her skin began to stitch together to repair the damage done, her quaking began to slow. His fingers stroking the length of her spine was soothing the fractured witch before him. Slowly easing her flat on her back once the wound took the appearance of new pink skin, Sirius reached out, his palm cupping against her cheek to turn her head towards him. As his thumb stroked over the small hairline scratches left by blasted asphalt, her eyes fluttered open. 

A trail of clean skin ran the length of her cheeks, cleaned of the remnants of their battle by the tears that had fallen earlier. His thumb smeared the wetness across her cheek, spreading the soot and dried blood as he soothed her. Reaching up, her own hand moved to cover his as their eyes connected.

“Did we do it?” her voice was heavy with pain, chest heaving in slow breaths. 

Sirius nodded, letting out a small laugh at her words. “At least I think. No casualties that I saw.” Sliding off the couch, he fell to his knees before her, leaning his elbows on the plush cushions she laid on, black hair hanging just in his eyes.

Reaching out Hermione pushed the curtain of black back from his forehead so she could look into his eyes better. “Still think they might not be bad men?” His eyes flashed at her words, thumb stilling on her cheek as his head shook no and he pulled back from touching her.

Hermione’s eyes fell from his and onto his chest. His collarbone and pecs were covered in small slicing wounds that spiderweb out, the pattern similar to the scar on her hip. It’s pattern was unique because of the modification to a simple charm that some Death Eater’s favored. It was used regularly in Muggle attacks due to the impact of the blast it had on a person, slicing them open like a shotgun blast. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she winced in pain. The skin across her back and ribs was already beginning to blossom in deep red bruises, which would likely stay for the next couple weeks as her body healed. 

“Easy, Little bird. Where do you think you’re going?” He clucked out to the rising witch. Reaching out his hand connected with her uninjured shoulder to attempt to push her back down. Hermione swatted his hand away, her head shaking at his protests as she sat up, willing her body to push past the achy feeling that had begun to set in. Sliding her legs on either side of the wizard who was kneeling before her, she reached out to pluck the bottle of Dittany off the table.   
  
“You’re hurt too.” Before she could uncork the stopper, his much larger hand curled around hers, stilling her movement. Hermione's eyes lifted to Sirius who shook his head no.    
  
“Don’t. I want the reminder.” His word mirrored her own from the night before. It wasn’t until their eyes connected that she had realized how intimate their positions were. Sirius was kneeling between her open thighs, his hand holding hers in her lap, their shirtless bodies only inches apart. 

Her tongue went out, wetting her bottom lip as her breath began to quicken, but this time not due to pain. Gulping down the rising bubble in her throat her lips parted slightly, watching him study her. Before she could pull back from the moment, his free hand lifted. Fingertips sliding through the side of her hair to curl around the back of her head as his mouth descended upon hers.

The bottle of Dittany slipped from her grasp to the floor between them, her own hands rose to curl around the sides of his neck, holding him in place as they allowed the tension that had built between them over the past day to bubble over.

Sirius’s mouth was firm on her own. She could taste the tangy copper of his blood from his split lip, but also the flavors and scents that were uniquely Sirius. Tobacco, leather and that musk of cedar invaded her senses. Her hands slid across his shoulders, over the planes of his back as she leaned back against the couch, tugging his body with hers. A soft whimper left her throat as his mouth moved from hers to kiss a burning trail down her neck. As his teeth nipped at the skin on her collarbone she shivered. The nibble had not only succeeded in awakening a dark desire, but also the realization that this should not be happening.

As he placed open-mouth kisses across the sensitive skin of her collarbone, allowing light love marks to be left in their wake, Hermione's hands moved to press against his chest. She was not yet applying pressure to push him away, just allowing her palms to rest against him. “Sirius,” she began, turning her head into his to try and break the connection between his lips and her skin. “Sirius, stop.”   
  
“Hm?” The wizard pulled back, confusion across his face as his hand slipped from her hair, joining the other to rest against her hips. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” her head shook, letting out a small breath in frustration. “We can’t do this… not tonight. Not after…” Her lips pursed tonight, not wanting to finish the sentence, but he knew her meaning. Not after that they had been through. The desire for each other was likely amplified by their adrenaline and need to find some sort of relief from their injuries. She couldn’t be certain this was something they both wanted under normal circumstances, not while dealing with the aftershocks from their combat.

As he began to pull himself from her, a look of rejection easily visible across his face, Hermione reached out, her hand taking his before it could leave her body. “Please don’t go.” Pausing, Sirius turned to look down to Hermione, brown eyes pleading for him to stay. “Just hold me...okay? I don’t want to be alone...but we can’t...not right now.” 

Sirius looked away, his eyes closing as he collected himself, taking two steady breaths.  “You’re not alone, Hermione.” His head turned to look at her, hand that was trapped in hers gave a gentle squeeze. “I won’t leave.” Rising from the floor, Sirius pushed his messy black hair back before bending low to scoop up her small frame. He curled her legs over his forearm, while the other supported her back. Moving towards the bedroom, his knee lifted to nudge open the door before he crossed the room and gently laying her down on the bed. 

Scooting over on top of the blankets, she made room for the wizard to crawl next to her. As the bed dipped with his weight, Hermione leaned into Sirius, tucking her head against his chest. She was careful not to touch the wounds that had begun to clot over. Her cheek rested flat against his skin as she felt her curls drop over her face to hide her features. Sirius extinguished the light in the room with a simple flick of his wand, but instead of its usual spot on the nightstand, the wizard tucked the wood beneath his pillow. 

His arms wrapped around Hermione, pulling her body into his as his fingers stroked a slow pattern up and down her spine as he had before. As she allowed the pain from her wounds to creep over her, she let out a shaky breath. Her arms slipped down his body, feeling his muscles roll beneath her fingertips as her arms snaked around his abdomen. Hermione nuzzlined against his hold as she closed her eyes, breathing him in. One of Sirius’s hands rose to the back of her head, fingers sinking into her curls as he pulled them from her face, petting the soft curls back gently.   
  
They laid in silence; the only sound to fill the room was their soft breaths and soft noises of his fingers stroking her skin and hair. Neither wanted to leave the other’s embrace for fear of losing this moment. 

Hermione had forgotten about the Time-Turner that was tucked safely in her holster next to her wand. Instead, she drifted off to sleep, letting herself calm in the the protective embrace of a wizard she should most definitely not be falling for.

When daylight broke outside the cottage, the rays of sunshine danced across Hermione’s face, bringing her from the deep sleep that she had so desperately needed. Reaching out, she expected to let her hand connect with Sirius warm body. Instead she found an empty bed. Her eyes snapped open as consciousness flooded her senses. Sitting up, she glanced around the room that was covered in a thick layer of dust. The blankets she laid upon were askew, but she could feel the stale powder of dust against her skin. It was no longer 1979. Instead Hermione found herself taken back to her own time. The cottage that surrounded her was no longer clean and new. Instead, every surface was covered with a thick layer of dust. It was clear that the Order had abandoned its use of this abode several years before. 

Her fingers curled against the blankets, as the night before replayed through her mind. She had left him. They shared a kiss, the passion evident from both Sirius and herself, but she stopped him. And now he would wake up alone, just like she did, except 20 years wouldn’t have passed for him.

As unintentional as her exit was, she couldn’t tell him the reason for her absence that morning. Cursing herself, Hermione moved off the bed, crossing the room toward a covered mirror she knew to be tucked against the wall. She pulled the cover off of it, sending dust flying up into the air. Trembling hands let go of the dirty sheet, letting it pool at her feet, before her right hand was lifted to touch the faint love marks that lined her collarbone. Fingers touching the raised skin as her eyes burned holes into the mirror, studying their appearance. What the hell did she get herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. My life next week is going to be a bit hectic, so I might not be able to post by Wednesday. You should definitely get the next chapter by next weekend though! I hope you all forgive me for cutting their first kiss short. Hermione can just be too damn sensible sometimes.
> 
> Before I forget, I do know a feather fall charm is not HP canon. I have been dabbling in D&D for a while now and felt like the spell could absolutely translate over easily. :)
> 
> As always, a huge Thank you to Islndgurl777!
> 
> <3 MM


	6. Three Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**May 4th, 1979 - Hoia Baciu Forest, Romania  - 16:00**

Hermione had not planned on avoiding the past, but anytime Kingsley would mention her inevitable return back to 1979, Hermione would make excuses. At first it was due to having to report her mission details, she had not had time to send a report to Alastor after the Salisbury skirmish. Then it was Ronald’s birthday. She couldn’t miss her friend turning 19, could she?

By the time Kingsley and the Unspeakables caught up with her, it was the end of March. She reluctantly agreed to return, under the pretense that Sirius would not be her partner. The idea of seeing Sirius, and confronting these feelings that she was trying to deny caused her anxiety to bubble to a dull roar. Instead she was partnered with Moody, and the wizard certainly lived up to his last name. They had spent the first part of their mission arguing about how best to track Evan Rosier, as apparently the dark wizard had taken to openly boasting about torturing Muggles at local pubs in the Highlands.

In total it took less than three days to find a him. However there was nothing to show for it, as the attempted arrest left Moody with one less eye, Hermione a lovely new hex scar on her left thigh and Rosier without his life. They had been hoping to capture the wizard, wanting to use what information they could gather from him to pinpoint the location of the Death Eaters’ headquarters. Rosier had put up a valiant fight against the two Aurors, easily deflecting and returning spells. In the end, Moody hit Rosier with a Disintegration curse when Hermione distracted him by setting his robes on fire. With physical proof of his demise nonexistent, Hermione and Moody were forced into mountains of paperwork and reports to accurately capture the correct details needed, being careful to leave the Order’s involvement out.

Once she’d returned to 1999, she had requested two weeks vacation, using the death of Rosier as an excuse to avoid having to return. She spent those two weeks traveling with Ginny and the Holyhead Harpies during their bid for the playoffs. The old friends easily fell into a familiar routine, having not spent that much time together since summers at The Burrow. Ginny knew not to ask Hermione too many questions about her job, having grown used to Harry’s own secrecy. Instead they would reminisce on their days at Hogwarts or join the rest of the Harpies who were often celebrating their victories in local pubs. By the time Hermione’s two weeks came to an end her liver was in desperate need of a break, but her attempts to forget those feelings for a raven haired wizard were successful.

Correspondence between Minister Kingsley and Albus during her vacation led to plans for a much longer mission for Hermione. Per the Headmaster, Remus had been missing for over a month. He was sent, upon the Order’s request, to infiltrate the werewolf packs in Romania, and they now feared he was in too deep. The mission was not only time-sensitive, but also top secret. Hermione had always held a soft spot for her old Professor. He had been kind to her from the very beginning and made sure to keep a watchful eye on the trio of friends while they were younger. When his life was lost at the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had mourned for weeks.

She agreed without hesitation, knowing bringing him back could impact the future relations between the werewolf packs and dark wizards. Without that alliance, Voldemort’s future armies would be weakened.

That was why Hermione had found herself at the edge of a forest in a foreign country twenty years in the past. The soft glow of light from her wand was directed towards the ground as she moved into the brush, letting the charmed compass in her other hand direct her to the camp that should be set up and waiting her arrival.

Booted feet carried her over fallen logs and streams as she moved deeper and deeper into the wildwood. As the canopy of trees above her thickened, the light from the sun began to fade, allowing a false sense of night in the forest. She had just begun to wonder if her compass was broken when she passed through the ward that was placed to concealed the camp. The tingle of magic washing over her felt like someone had cracked an egg on the top of her head and let the contents run over. Looking up from the compass the instant it was felt, her eyes connected with a dusty old tent.

The tent was made of faded canvas. Hermione knew that what lay behind the front flap was likely much larger than it appeared. The metal stove pipe that peaked out of the roof was blowing thick white clouds of smoke into the air, and the rich smell of food cooking that wafted in her direction made her stomach rumble.

Extinguishing her wand’s glow and tucking the compass into her pocket, Hermione moved to the entrance, pushing past the canvas door and she slipped inside. The interior was different than the Perkin’s tent she had used before. The ceiling was draped in a similar fashion, but instead of several bedrooms, this tent only held a single room. It was large, about the size of the Gryffindor common room, and a large bed was tucked in one corner. Next to it an old armchair and  a couch were pushed against the edge of the bed, squeezed in to offer more seating options. The kitchen was against the opposite wall and a small wooden table with three matching chairs filled the space between the sleeping and dining quarters. Although it was a tight fit, you could easily fit 3 to 4 bodies in this tent if needed.

As she surveyed the room, she expected to find the strawberry blonde hair of Moody peeking out from the back of an arm chair, but instead what she saw caused her heart to thump. Pitch black hair. _‘Oh fuck.’_

Sirius’s head popped around the armchair to land upon Hermione and his smile fell as shock took over his features. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Hermione blinked at him, watching his lithe frame rise from the armchair as he moved towards her. Her boots scuffed against the wooden floor as she backed up. “What am I doing here? What are **you** doing here? I was told Alastor would be here.” Her voice cracked, and as Sirius moved in upon her, she felt her heart rate quicken.  
  
“He hasn’t been released since the incident.” His hand lifted to gesture towards his eye, causing Hermione to wince in remembrance. “Besides, Re--Lupin is my friend. I should be the one to pull him out of there.” His eyes ran over her small frame, making sure she was really in front of him, and not some mirage. He hadn’t heard from the witch since February, and he had almost begun to believe she never existed. “I haven’t seen you since Salisbury. What the fuck happened?”  
  
Moving around his advancing form, her hands pulled the thick gray sweater around her body tighter, wanting to hide underneath the folds. “I didn’t want to wake you. I had to leave….another mission,” she lied, walking around the armchair he had been previously occupied. She turned to face him, using the furniture as a physical barrier between their bodies.

Hermione's mind swirled in thought of ways she could force the sand through the Time-Turner to allow her back to 1999 before a week’s time. Would shaking it work? Or maybe if she threw it against something the force would knock multiple grains down at once. She knew that it was impossible, but she still allowed herself to get distracted at the idea, her fingers coming to rest against the Time-Turner that was tucked under her top.

“Hermione, you owe me an explanation. Things aren’t adding up.” His voice broke her from her thought. While deliberating ways she could escape, Sirius had moved to the opposite side of the chair in front of her, his hands curled over the top, fingers pressing divots into the fabric. “We kiss, and then you just disappear for 3 months.”  
  
Gulping, Hermione nodded, her brown eyes connecting with his, her teeth catching her bottom lip in worry. She didn’t even attempt to argue as it was the truth. She had avoided returning to see him. She knew herself well enough by now to know that her judgement become clouded when Sirius was around. “I looked for you at the Ministry, and you were nowhere to be found. Hell, I sent owls thinking you were hiding from me and all came back confused, like they couldn’t find you,” he pressed, eyes careful to read her expression. “Then there’s your purse.” His voice dipped low, as if debating how he was going to deliver his next line of questioning.

“My what?”  
  
“Your fucking bag, Hermione!” Sirius snapped, causing Hermione’s eyes to widen in surprise at his outburst. She had left her crossbody by accident the night of the Salisbury attack, but there should not have been anything in there that had given away her secrets. “Your journal is dated twenty years from now...wha-”  
  
“Sirius, we agreed not to discuss it!” she interrupted quickly, her voice raised to a near yell as her hands fisted into the fabric of her sweater at her sides. She could not let him finish his sentence, fearing that verbalising his questions would make him attempt to connect the pieces of the puzzle that was Hermione Granger.

Sirius’s mouth shut quickly, surprised by her sudden outburst. “No,” he began, head shaking as he raise a finger to point at her. “We agreed not to talk about the past.” His finger thrust in her direction to punctuate the point he was making.  What Sirius didn’t realize, was that to Hermione the past, present and future were one in the same. It felt as if she was trying to find an island in a flood, and at this point, no land was in sight.

“Please don’t ask questions you know I cannot answer.” Chewing on her bottom lip, brown eyes pleaded with him to drop it. She watched the him process her words. Gray eye shining skeptically back into hers. As they stood in silence Hermione didn’t move. She felt very much like prey, her every breath being studied by the beast in front of her, who was waiting for the perfect moment to pounce and destroy her.  
  
It was not until the smell of burning food reached them, that Sirius snapped out of his scrutinous gaze of the aloof witch in front of him. “Oh fuck!” Turning he darted across the room, past Hermione toward the small kitchenette tucked in the corner. The oven door had black smoke beginning to billow out its seams. Bending, he opened the metal door, hand waving the thick bitter smoke away from his face before he reached in. “Mugglefucker!”

The boiling hot pan had connected with the skin on the tips of his fingers. Straightening upright upon contact, his hand went to his mouth as he stuck the burning flesh against his tongue to soothe the scorch marks. Grabbing his wand from his pocket he angrily waved it towards the stove. “ _Evanesco_ .” With a soft pop, the smoke and ruined dinner disappeared from inside the stove.  
  
Hermione had stayed back, watching the frazzled wizard work. Her hand went up to cover her mouth, attempting to hide her giggles from him as she stood still in the middle of the tent. Unable to contain her laughter when she heard his swear, she nearly double over, hands dropping to her stomach as she watched him Vanish the burned food. When he had turned back to look at Hermione, his burned fingers were still stuck between his lips, his eyes much softer than they were moments before.

Hermione, no longer hiding her laughter, was leaning against the armchair she had been previously using for protection. Now she use it for support as her body wracked with laughter. “Did you just say Mugglefucker?”  


* * *

**May 4th, 1979 - Întuneric Bârlog, Romania  - 20:00**

After Hermione had composed herself from her fit of hysterics, they had come to the conclusion that cooking was neither of their forte and they should head to the closest village to grab a bite to eat. Sirius offered to Apparate them just outside hamlet, but Hermione insisted she could do it herself, as she had walked from there earlier. The truth was she did not want to be pressed up against Sirius again. His mere presence was overwhelming enough, she did not need to add more fuel to the fire. The eatery options in Întuneric Bârlog were very limited. Given their options, the pair had decided a local tavern would be the best choice. They could eat and gather information about the comings and goings of the pack.

Getting dinner wasn’t a problem; the waitstaff obliged their request for a meal and served them a local venison stew. Although, gathering intel was proving to be exceedingly difficult. Hermione nor Sirius had considered the fact that this village saw very few visitors as it was on the outskirts of a rumored haunted forest, and the visitors they did see usually came with very sharp sets of teeth.

Hermione slipped onto the barstool next to Sirius, setting her nearly empty bottle of Muggle ale down with a soft huff. “Any luck?” she asked, glancing over to Sirius, who was currently nursing his third beer. His head shook no, twisting the bottle around in his fingers, letting the liquid inside swish around haphazardly.

“They don’t say shite. Just look at me and won’t speak until I went away.” Picking up the bottle, he swallowed the last bit of beer before setting the bottle down close to the edge of the bartop nearest the bartender. “Full moon’s in a less than a week. We have to get him out of there before then.”

Hermione could heard the uneasiness in his voice. She recalled a time after her third year, they had all stayed up late in Grimmauld Place, requesting stories about the original Order of the Phoenix, and Harry’s parents. Sirius and Remus were more than happy to give into the peer pressure the young teenagers placed upon them. Sirius told stories of pranks they had pulled at Hogwarts, and of a particularly short chase James and he had given Muggle law enforcement. Remus, however, used the time to warn the trio about werewolves. Remus knew that Hermione and Harry had attempted to lure him away from Sirius while he shifted the night Peter was discovered to still be alive, putting themselves in great danger. He explained where each and every one of the scars that marred his face came from, and how a shifted werewolf was far too dangerous for two 13 year olds.

Hermione’s hand went out and touched Sirius’s hands that was fidgeting with a napkin nervously. “Look at me, Sirius,” she requested, head tilting just slightly until their eyes connected and a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips, trying to ease his anxiety. “We will find him. I won’t leave until he’s back.” Although she knew she couldn’t make this promise, she had to. She had to give him hope.

The corners of Sirius’s lips rose slightly to return the gesture before he looked down at their connected hands and a soft breath was pushed through his nose. “We should get out of here. I think our presence is causing a bit of a problem.”

Hermione glanced behind him to survey the room. Immediately surrounding the pair the tables and barstools sat empty. Everyone seemed to fan out from them, afraid to get too close. “Yeah, don’t think they like us much, huh?”

“Can’t blame ‘em, Bloody English tourists are the worst,” Sirius joked, his smile cracking wider as Hermione wrinkle her nose at him. There was something about the witch he could not put his finger on. He was very rarely turned down, especially after kissing a witch (or wizard), but she had done so. She even went to lengths to avoid him! The more she fought this connection they both so clearly felt, the more Sirius was certain he had to have her.

When he saw her walk into the tent earlier that day, he was a bit cross. And if he put actual thought to what she was asking of him, to ignore the glaring mysteries around her, he might still be. But that laugh and smile seemed to melt through any trepidation that he might have. She captivated him and Sirius could not explain why.  
  
Sliding off the barstool, he shrugged his leather jacket back on. Holding his hand out towards Hermione, he waited. Hermione’s brown eyes fell to his extended him, uncertain if she should accept the gesture. They both knew they were dancing upon the cusp of this being an affectionate gesture, but Sirius took the chance. Perhaps this would persuade Hermione into allowing this flirtation to come to fruition. Reaching out she laced her fingers into his before he led them out of the tavern. Mahogany boots were heavy upon the creaky wooden floor and as they reached the door, he turned to glance over his shoulder one last time, noting the way every set of eyes in the establishment were firmly held upon the pair.

With a small nudge from Hermione to encourage his exit, he pushed open the heavy oak door before leaving them outside. The sun had set hours ago, and the melody of insects buzz filled the spring nights air. “Am I allowed to ask about your shoulder?” Sirius glanced out of the corner of his eye to Hermione, who walked silently next to him, not yet removing her hand from his.

“It’s okay,” she began, free hand moving to cup the shoulder in question, fingers pressing into her sweater to apply light pressure against the scar beneath the fabric. “It’s stiff some mornings. But other than that, I’ve survived. How about you?”

“I’ve been told I look rugged now.” Hermione’s eyes rolled at his presumptuous tone, letting out a small pfft as she did so. “Don’t be jealous, Little bird. I can show you later if you want.”  
  
Her head turned towards him as a grin spread across her features at his use of her nickname. Although she would deny it if question, she had begun to enjoy the term of endearment from him. “Oh, so I’m Little bird again,” she teased. Her hand slipped from his and she reached out to poke him in the ribs playfully. “You’re no longer upset with me?”  
  
Sirius laughed, his body curling slightly as he attempted to block her invading fingers. “I guess. But only if you promise not to run away again.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The pair walked in silence the rest of the way out of the village, letting the soft sound of their boots crunching on the dirt path beside the road fill the void in their conversation. Hermione stayed close to Sirius, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they walked.

As they moved past the various houses that littered the outskirts of the Muggle village, she noticed that all the windows and doors held thick metal bars or grates over them. It was as if they were trying to prevent someone, or something, from gaining access to the inside.

As they crossed the last house on the street Hermione paused in front of it. It appeared as if it had been abandoned for some time. The metal bars outside the front windows were bent back, twisting the iron into vicious points. “Sirius,” she called out, turning her head to look at the wizard before nodding to the home. “You don’t think…” Voice trailing off, not wanting to verbalize the thought.

She had seen the damage a werewolf could make first hand. The first time was when Remus had attacked her and Harry during their third year, but also during the Battle of Hogwarts, when Fenrir Greyback fought beside the Death Eaters in an attempt to take over the school and kill Harry. Moving off the dirt road before Sirius could answer, Hermione approached the home. Her hand extended, letting her fingers touch the ruined metal bars that surrounded the window. Inside the home she could see overturned furniture, broken glass and holes in the walls. Whatever had gotten in had clearly been given a fight. As she leaned closer to the window to survey the damage a large dark spot in the middle of the floor caught her attention.

 _‘Blood.’_ Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as an idea came to mind and she quickly moved to the front door. “Whoa, Hermione. You can’t go in there. What if--” his words were cut off when she attempted to open the front door, but found it locked. Withdrawing her wand from her sweater, she pointed the tip at the door handle. “ _Alohomora._ ” With a soft click the lock unlatched. Moving swiftly she pushed through the threshold, stepping over the wreckage to get to the spot she had seen through the window.

Crouching down, she eyed the stain, noting that blood was already dried up into a thick crust over the carpet. If they could get a piece she could use it to track down the person that it had come from. Although the spell wasn’t technically considered Dark Magic, it was frowned upon from Ministry when used. The risk was worth taking, seeing as none of the Muggles from the village would tell Sirius or herself about the pack that they knew to be in the woods. Besides, it wasn’t like they were in British Ministry of Magic’s jurisdiction. The Romanian Wizard’s Council proceeded over them here, and Hermione could claim she had no knowledge that its use was banned.  
  
Glancing around, Hermione's looked for something she could use to cut the carpet with. Noticing a large shard of glass to her left, Hermione grabbed the piece carefully and began to attempt to cut through the thick fabric.

“Merlin, Hermione, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself.” Sirius reached out, his hand curling around her wrist to stop her movements before he nudged her gently out of the way. “Muggleborns, why do they always insist on doing this the hard way,” he muttered under his breath as his wand was withdrawn and with a wave of his hand the tip of it began to glow a dull red. Bringing it down to the carpet he dragged it across the blood stain, and as his wand made a small square about the size of his palm, the carpet cut away cleanly from the floor.  
  
Picking up the ruined fabric, Sirius turned toward Hermione who held out her hand expectantly toward him. Not yet placing the fabric in her hand, he held it back, eyeing the witch curiously  “What are you planning on doing with this?”

“I read about a spell a while back. It could lead us to the person who ever left this mess on the floor.”

“Like a trace?”

“Similar. It was used in the 17th Century by witches when they fled Muggle villages during the persecution. They would leave a blood-soaked object for other magic users to use to track them down. The Muggles would think they had died, and wouldn’t go looking for them. It really is quite ingenious if you th-”

Sirius’s free hand rose to press against the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows lifting as he let out an exaggerated sigh that cut her off. “I wasn’t looking for a history lesson, Hermione.” Depositing the swatch in her open palm, Sirius brushed his hands against his jeans to get the remnants left behind off. “So you think the person is still alive after,” gesturing to the large stain before them. “That?”

“It’s worth a shot.” Hermione shrugged, eyes dropping to the fabric in her hands and chewed on her bottom lip in thought for a moment before looking back up to the wizard. “Best plan we’ve got so far. Unless you think you can go back and convince someone in town to tell us about what’s happening in the forest.”

“I think I’d have better luck convincing a Niffler to stop nicking things.”  
  
“Well, I suppose that settles it then?” Hermione pushed carpet into the front pocket of her jeans, before brushing her hands together to knock the dirt and dried blood from them. “Meet you at camp?” Glancing up to Sirius, she waited for him to respond before she took half a step from him. Closing her eyes to concentrate on the location of their tent, she felt the pull of Apparition before the feeling of flying through the air overtook her.

She landed just inside the wards that were placed around the camp, the sound of her Apparition echoing off the thicket around her. Within a few moments after her own landing, she heard Sirius appear beside her. Hermione glanced over to him, watching him gain his legs after he stumbled a bit upon impact.  
  
“You said the full moon soon, right?” her voice cut through the sounds of the forest surrounding them.

Sirius turned his attention over to Hermione and he nodded. Moving towards the entrance to the tent, he held it open just long enough for her to slip in before him. “Six days to be exact,” he uttered as she past him him. Moving into the tent he set his wand down upon the coffee table before slipping his jacket off. Plopping down on the couch he began to unlace his boots, fingers working against the black strings.  
  
“I'll start the research in the morning, we should get a good night's sleep before we attempt anything anyways. From the books I’ve read a pack can travel hundreds of miles in a day.” Her fingers toyed at the hem of her own sweater, letting the soft wool roll between her fingertips. She watched him drop his muddy boots to the floor before the couch, mismatched socks shoved in to store for the night. His bare feet padded against the wooden flooring as he moved towards the kitchen. Against the wall on a wooden table chair was a small black canvas duffle bag that she had not noticed earlier.

“Great, more walking tomorrow. Just what I was hoping for.” Sirius opened the bag and began to dig around inside, withdrawing a pair of black pajama bottoms and a sweater. Tossing the sleepwear over his shoulder, he began to move towards the restroom. Glancing at Hermione who still stood in the entrance way, as if frozen. “You can take the bed,” he began, watching the way the dim lighting bounced off her curls as she nodded. “Unless, of course, you want company. I’d be more than happy to join you.”

A soft blush crept on her cheeks at his words, her head shaking no as her eyes rolled. “No, I think I’d prefer you stay on the couch.” Turning away from him so he could not see the effect his bold words had on her, she grabbed her own bag out of the armchair and began to dig around for her night clothes.  
  
“You’ve slept with me before, Little bird.” He reminded her, gray eyes boring into the back of her head before he opened the bathroom door. “I was nothing but a gentleman last time.”  
  
Her movements paused, fingers curling around the flannel button-down she’d located. When he held her after their combat, he was nothing but a gentleman. Stroking her back to help her ease to sleep, but what had happened before then was far from chivalrous. It was passionate, and hurried, seeking the release in each other, and that was what made her nervous. “You were kind, Sirius.” Her teeth chewing on her bottom lip as she withdrew her pajamas and set them next to her bag. “I never got to say thank you for treating me.”

“You’d have done the same.” He watched her turn towards him, her brown eyes connecting with his own. The same brown eyes had been the beginning of every fantasy he held for the past three months. He wanted to see them full of passion again, desperate to have her tip over the edge of restraint and give in.

The both stood still, watching the other for what felt like minutes before Hermione looked down to the pajamas she had picked up. Fingers rubbed the soft fabric between each other. “Can you shut the door? I’d like to change.”  
  
“Oh… sure.”

Sirius stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and as he did Hermione let out a breath that she did not realize she was holding. When the sound of running water could be heard, she changed quickly, not wanting to chance being caught naked. Putting a pillow and blanket from the bed on the couch she extinguished the lights in the tent, crawling into the empty bed and tucking herself in.

When Sirius emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and damp, she closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep to avoid further conversation. She could hear the creak of wood frame strain as he laid on the couch. When she heard him settle in, she allowed one eye to crack open. Over the arm of the couch she could see one of his hands twist the ends of his hair through his fingertips. How badly had she wished to do the exact same thing? To replace his fingers with her own, to feel the softness of his hair to roll over her skin. Pushing the rising bubble of desire from her chest, she rolled over, snuggling further into the mattress before she allowed sleep to overtake her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference Întuneric Bârlog roughly (loosely) translates to 'Dark Den'. I am using google translate, so this could be inaccurate, so forgive me! :) 
> 
> Leave me a comment and let me know what you think so far!
> 
> ~ MM


	7. Wolves in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**May 5th, 1979 - Hoia Baciu Forest, Romania  - 03:00**

_Hermione felt the weight of Bellatrix pin her against the wooden floor of the Malfoy Manor library. The older witch used it to her advantage, easily controlling the screaming girl as she carved into her arm using the blade given to her by her beloved master. “Filthy little Mudblood,” she snarled, the gray rotten teeth visible as her lips pulled back in a sneer. “How did you get into my vault?”  
_

_Hermione could only scream in response as the sharp blade dragged against her skin. She could feel the trickle of blood roll off down her arm and pool on the floor. The wound burned, much more than a cut should. It felt as if her arm was on fire, burning to the bone with each new slice of her skin. “We didn’t! It came to us.” Her head turned away from Bellatrix when the dark witch lowered her face inches from Hermione's._

_Rancid breath washed over Hermione’s cheek as she screamed, “LIAR!” Bellatrix pressed the blade harder against the skin on Hermione’s forearm, relishing the pain it caused the girl. A wicked laugh began to leave her as she watched Hermione’s cries grow louder, body trembling as the pain became too much._

“Hermione!” She felt hands on her shoulders shaking her as she fought against the dead witch in her dreams. Her hands went out, fist hitting the figure before her as she screamed, fighting against the darkened figure that was grabbing her. As her body thrashed to break free from the hold her screams filled the tent. Her throat was raw, and felt as if she had just swallowed Fiendfyre. Gasping for breath, she desperately pushed the body of whom she assumed was Bellatrix.

 “Hermione! Hermione wake up!” Sirius didn’t flinch against the fight, taking the punches and scratches as he tried to wake the screaming witch. Gray eyes brimmed with concern as he watched her face contort in pain. When her eyes snapped open, he visibly relaxed, letting the tension that wound around him like a thick cord loosen its hold.

It took several seconds for her to register the person above her wasn’t Bellatrix, but rather Sirius. Instead of the cold, cruel gray of Bellatrix’s eyes she saw the warm glow of Sirius’s. They were like smoke as it rose from a smoldering campfire, and the same shade a stormy sky on the cusp of turning thunderous. They stole her breath away immediately.

As her breath hitched in her throat, Sirius brought his hand up to her cheek, letting his thumb stroke the tear-kissed skin in a slow drawl. “Are you okay, Little bird?” his voice was barely a whisper, as if too afraid to speak any louder because it might frighten her.

A shaky breath was let out as tears slowly spilled down her cheeks. She wasn’t okay. She was twenty years in the past, longing to be with a man she shouldn’t and afraid this would be all for nothing. The idea of returning home was not any better than being with him though, as back in 1999 she had no one. Sure Harry and Ginny were always there, but she lacked anyone to come home to. No Ron, no parents. Hermione felt entirely alone.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stammered out, body still trembling in the aftershocks of her nightmare. Her eyes closed, letting more tears slide down her reddened cheeks as she bit her bottom lip, trying to calm herself down. If she any dignity left after this, she would be surprised.

Sirius did not ask, instead he let his body slide into the bed next to her, tucking himself over the thick comforter. His arms slowly embraced the curly haired witch, drawing her close to his chest. “Sorry? Hermione, you don’t have to apologize.”

She stiffened in his arms, not wanting to give in to his embrace, fearing he would think her weak. It wasn’t until she felt his lips press soft kisses on the crown of her head that she allowed herself to break. Hands slipped up from the mattress to fist in his sweater, burying her face in the soft weft of the cotton. Her body trembled as she cried, letting out the pent-up frustration and sorrow she had felt for so long.

When she had Obliviated her parents, she did not allow herself time to properly mourn their loss. They had been in the midst of a war that was not intended for children. Thrust into the chaos and destruction, she had to remain strong for Harry and Ron. When it had ended, she helped rebuild her friends. She allowed Ron to use her strength to cope with the loss of his own family member, and she took the burden of being his rock without question. Perhaps this was why their break up was so difficult. She had helped him heal his wounds, but she did not receive the same in return.

The days following the Battle of Hogwarts and Voldemort's defeat quickly turned into months, and her focus shifted from her friends to her work. She dedicated hours of her time to becoming the best Auror the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had ever seen, often times falling asleep on the couch in the breakroom, choosing to appear like a workaholic instead of facing the empty apartment at the end of the day.

She had forgotten what it felt like to feel vulnerable until this moment. As her body quaked with each cry, Sirius held her tighter, allowing her to use him as her anchor. His right hand rose to the back of her head, stroking her curls down her neck as his left arm curled around her slender frame, his hand splayed out against her lower back. “It’s okay, Little bird. I’m right here.” His mouth was near her ear, whispering softly to her, trying to heal the wound that had so clearly beep ripped open in her dream.

“Don’t l-leave.” Her voice trembled as her head tipped up from his chest, brown eyes pleading him as their gazes connected.

She could have asked him to kiss a Chinese Fireball square on the snout and he would not have hesitated. Those big brown eyes could convince him to do anything, especially if she looked at him as she did now. Letting out a soft breath that had been held in his throat, he nodded. Leaning down, his forehead pressed against hers gently, his hand moved from the back of her head to cup her jawline. “Never.” Leaning forward just slightly, he let the tip of his nose slide against hers as his eyes fluttered closed at their contact.

The wetness from her cheek transferred to his as she leaned up into him, her parted lips brushing against his in a soft promise of a kiss. Sirius’s tongue went out, running across his bottom lip to collect the salty tears that transferred to him during their affections. As his thumb ran the length of her delicate jaw, his mouth pressed sweetly against hers.

Sirius’s kiss was not as demanding as their first. Instead, he greedily accepted whatever she would give to him in this moment, not wanting to push the broken witch into anything, letting her guide their exploration. He couldn’t help but let out a soft groan as her hand slipped up from his chest to slide into the hair on the side of head. The feeling of her nails against his scalp caused goosebumps to rise along the back of his neck in pleasure.

She had longed to run her fingers through his hair since their first mission. Just as she had assumed, it was incredibly soft, almost silken to the touch. Parting their kiss, she brushed her nose against his before tipping her head down just enough to allow his lips to connect with her forehead as she collected her breath. Her hand slipped from his hair to rest against the junction between his neck and shoulder, feeling his pulse beat underneath his skin.

Sirius returned his arms around the small witch, pressing their bodies together in an impossibly close embrace, his fingers curling into the flannel of her nightshirt. As his lips pressed soft kisses to her damp forehead his eyes closed, wishing he could reply that kiss forever. “Hermione,” his lips brushed over the skin on her temple as he leaned down slightly, pressing soft kisses between his own pleas to her. “Don’t run away this time.”

Her heart ached. She knew how badly that morning in February felt for her, and she couldn’t begin to fathom the uneasiness it caused him. Leaning forward her mouth was pressed against the skin just below his Adam’s apple, the coarse hair of his stubble tickling her lips. “I won’t.”

Sirius let his cheek rub against hers, letting her curls cover his face as he nuzzled against the witch affectionately. The way their entwined bodies clung to one another in a desperate embrace was more than enough for both to know the feelings were mutual.

A heavy breath left her throat, which was still raw from her cries, as her head came to rest against his chest. Beneath her ear she could hear the soft rhythm of his heartbeat thump against his chest. Without resistance, she let the beating lull her to sleep as she remained securely curled up in his embrace.

Sirius waited until he felt the rise and fall of her chest even out in a steady pattern before he allowed himself to follow her into slumber. It was in moments before dreams overtook him that he silently vowed to do whatever he could to make sure this witch would never have to be alone again.

* * *

 

  **May 8th, 1979 - Hoia Baciu Forest, Romania  - 16:00**

The days following her nightmares were filled with Hermione pouring over her personal notebooks and spell books she had brought with her for the mission. Sirius would occasionally help, but grew frustrated of trying to decipher the text she allowed him to read. Half of the pile she wouldn’t permit him to touch, saying something about he wouldn’t know what to look for in them. He tried to explain he had received O’s in nearly all of his N.E.W.T.S but she just brushed him off.

 Determined to be at least somewhat helpful, he would visit the village under the cover of his Animagus form, hoping to overhear conversations about the wolf pack. He would leave early in the morning, but not before leaving a prepared lunch for Hermione, who he realized would not eat unless prompted while in the throes of her research. Returning late at night, he would have to physically shut her texts to get her to withdraw and go to sleep.

 The chivalrous attempt to give her the bed while he slept on the couch did not continue past their first night in the tent. Instead the pair would curl up in each others’ arms, not speaking of their arrangement, but instead letting the comfortable embrace overtake them each night. Sirius desperately wanted to push for more, but he wouldn’t press his luck. She was like a wounded sparrow; if he made too fast a gesture she would attempt to fly away. For now he would have to be okay with the way she would nuzzle into the crook of his neck in her sleep as her hot breath washed over his skin like a warm blanket, and the way her scent reminded him of a fresh spring day, filled Wildflowers, and the unmistakable scent of honey.

Four days had passed before Hermione was confident she could perform the enchantment. They awoke early and readied themselves for their trek deep into the woods. Prior to leaving, both Hermione and Sirius reinforced their magical wards to make sure the camp would stay hidden in their absence. Her confidence on the ability of this spell was fading fast, although she would not let Sirius know about her doubts. Instead she pushed the feelings away and continued on through the trees.

 “Are you fucking kidding me, Sirius?!” Hermione’s voice pierced through the quiet of the forest as she looked down at her clothing, which was splattered with mud. A few feet in front of her a large, black shaggy dog stood in the middle of mud, the thick brown liquid covering almost every inch of fur.

 If dogs could smile, Sirius would have perfected it. Thus far they had succeeded in crossing over 50 miles of forest since daybreak. They had found signs of pack encampments, but had yet to cross paths with beings in the forest, magical or Muggle.

 Her eyes rolled as she shook her head, muttering under her breath how she should have brought a leash as she brushed her hands against her shirt, attempting to remove the mud from her clothing. Her patience with the pup was short, but it wasn’t any better in his human form. At least as a dog she did not have to hear him complain about their walking.

Withdrawing the swatch of bloodstained carpet from her pocket, she touched the tip of her wand to it as she said, “ _Vestigium Sanguis_.” A teal smoke rolled from her wand to coil around the carpet. When the vapors connected with the blood they whirled into a deep purple before rising into the air and floating off in front of them, leaving a dotted trail in the air for a path to follow.

They had to be close, Hermione could sense it. In the beginning the path the spell weaved was erratic, zig-zagging them through the forest as if the person whose blood was split was running from them, but as the day grew longer their trail had straightened out.

Depositing the fabric back in her pocket, she moved forward, letting the purple vapor clouds crash into her body as she moved deeper into the spooky woods. Her wand remained withdrawn, the vinewood firm in her grasp; she was hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst. Werewolves were not known for their friendliness towards humans, especially ones who were looking for them.

Sirius had darted forward, letting his canine senses overtake his human rationale. Shaking her head as she watched him jump in mud puddles and under the roots of trees. When he disappeared just out of range, she felt an uneasiness creep across her skin. Someone was watching her. Brown eyes darted around her, attempting to catch whatever she felt preying upon her.  
  
“ _Homenum Revelio_.”

With the flick of her wand, she heard a snap in the distance, followed by a quick “Ow!” Twenty feet to her left a pudgy man with light brown hair moved from behind a thick tree, hands rubbing his backside as he did. 

Hermione turned toward him, though not allowing her feet to carry her any closer, her wand withdrawn and held in front of her instinctively. _‘Gods Sirius, get your furry arse back here!’_ Gulping down the rising sense of trepidation, her voice called out to him, “Why are you hiding?”

Looking up from rubbing his backside, the man’s green eyes widened in her direction and he paled. His body froze its movement as he stared open mouthed at Hermione, slowly processing that his position had been compromised. “Why’m I hidin’? Why are yooh wanderin’ ‘bout the woods? Di’nt nobody tell you these woods is haunted.?” He waved his hand front of him, fingers wiggling in a fanned patterned to make his point seem more mysterious.

His accent was decidedly not Romanian. She couldn’t quite discern his nationality based on his cadence, but he spoke with a tone similar to her own, just slightly off. Her wand lowered to her hip, although firmly held in her grasp so if needed she could use it. “I’m not wandering. I’m looking for someone.”  
  
The pudgy man eyed her skeptically, his green eyes traveling to her wand before back up to her face. “Only people this far inta the woods ‘ave a-lot more protection than jus’ a wand.”

Ah, so he wasn’t Muggle, although she thought the possibility of running into one out here was slim anyways. “I have no plans to use it for protection.” Her tongue darted out, running across her lips to wet them as a nervous habit. “Are you from the pack that has been visiting Întuneric Bârlog?”

A small laugh left the man as he shook his head, relaxing a bit at her words when he realized she posed no immediate threat to him. “Do I sound like I’m from ‘ere?” Reaching out, his hand pressed into the bark on the tree closest to him as he leaned against it in a lazy pose.  
  
“Suppose not. But then why are you out here?” In the distance, she could hear the happy barking of Sirius. It made her a little less nervous to know he was only a few yards away, but she would have felt a whole lot better had he decided to stay next to her like she had requested when they embarked on this mission.  
  
“Me Mum sent me ta bring a real Roma woman home. Somefin’ ‘bout makin’ new alliances with a marriage.” Shrugging, the man nonchalantly brushed his shaggy hair from his eyes. “I t’ought I smell a pack bond when I was at camp. But you ain’t no wolf.” He let his eyes drag down her form, not hiding his appraisal of Hermione. “Too scrawny you is.”

Hermione blushed, reaching up to adjust her jacket in discomfort. “I’m not a werewolf….but I am looking for one. If you’re familiar with the pack from these woods, perhaps you can introduce us to them?”  
  
“Us? I dun see no us.” His lips pressed together in a skeptical line as he eyed Hermione until the echoing sound of the bark filled the air. His eyes closed and his nose was in the air, sniffing at the breeze as it washed over him. As his eyelids fluttered open, they revealed a deep gold color instead of green. “Who ya brought wif ya, little witch?”

“He’s uh…a friend.” Technically not a lie, right? Hermione glanced over her shoulder toward the direction the barking came from, and with each noise heard it sounded like Sirius was getting closer. “Sirius!” Her voice called out, head turning back to eye the werewolf before her who was beginning to inch towards her. “Sirius, come meet my new friend…” Her voice was loud, knowing that with his canine hearing he would be able to pick her up easily. She had allowed her voice to trail off, hoping he could fill in his name.

“Royston...mah friends call me Roy.”

Hermione nodded, taking half a step back to provide more space between their bodies. “Hermione,” she offered her own name in return, eyes nearly rolling as he wrinkled his nose at her in disbelief.

“Hermynee? And I t’ought my parents were daft,” Roy muttered to himself.

The sound of someone clearing their throat came from over Hermione’s left shoulder, and she whipped her head around to see Sirius ambling up beside her. The way he carried himself with such finesse got under her skin. How could he be so fucking calm knowing they were likely surrounded by a pack of werewolves in the middle of the forest two days away from the full moon?!

“Hello Roy, name’s Sirius.” Slipping past Hermione, he strolled casually up to other man, hand extended to him in a friendly gesture. Despite his outward appearance of calm, inside Sirius was a maelstrom. When shifted, he could smell traces of Moony in the air, but it was so faint, fading with each breeze that passed through the trees. 

Roy’s hand moved from where he had been propping it up against the tree, slipping into Sirius’s to give a firm shake. As the breeze picked up again, Sirius’s scent wafted to Roy, and his eye flashed to gold once more. “Yer here for him, aren’t-cha?”  
  
Sirius’s hand stopped mid-shake, his friendly facade dropping. His fingers, curled around Roy’s hand, tightened. “What was that?” his voice was a low growl already, his own animal rising inside of him. A member of his pack was in trouble, and Sirius was far more animal than man when it came to protecting his friends. This man knew where Remus was, having smelt the pack bond long before their presence was heard.

A low laugh was released from Roy, not backing down from the Animagus. “They knew yooh lot would come fer him. He sang like a canary once Fenrir got ta him, tolt ‘im all ‘bout yer littl’ pack.” His voice was dripping with maliciousness, using the rage Sirius was showing to dig under his skin. “On his way right now, he is. Fenrir’s wanted ta meet ya. Sent me in to stop ya before ya stumbled into our camp. Little witch made dat easy.” Roy’s eyes darted to Hermione, tossing her a wink before withdrawing his hand from Sirius roughly. “Tremblin’ in her boots, she was. I could smell the fear, sweet like wine.”  
  
Hermione’s heart stuttered in her chest. This was a trap. Of course it was, how naive was she? Thinking they could sneak up on a pack in their own forest. Cursing herself under her breath, she moved forward quickly, wand drawn on Roy as she advanced, wrapping her hand around Sirius’s biceps. “Sirius, we have to leave….now.”

Sirius’s body stayed rigid, watching Roy with fire in his eyes as teeth clenched. When Hermione’s tugs got more forceful he turned to her, his own hand going out to grasp her roughly. “We are **not** leaving. Moony is in there and I’m getting him back.”

Another cruel laugh filled the air, except this time, it wasn’t from Roy. The lumbering form of Fenrir Greyback came out from behind a tree. His long duster hovering just centimeters from the ground, making his bulky form appear almost longer. “My, my. What do we have here Roy?” As he rounded around Roy, his hand gave his shoulder a small clasp in an almost thanks. “A little witch and her..” his voice trailed off before he took a deep breath in. “Mangy mutt.”

Sirius’s body lurched forward, and the only thing that prevented him from launching onto the man who appeared to be far more wolf than human was Hermione’s hand that was still holding him back. “Where is he?!” He snarled toward Fenrir, gray eyes flashing with fury in the direction of the werewolf alpha.

“He? You mean that runt? Pathetic excuse for a wolf if you ask me. Old man Lupin must have done a real number on him to make him so weak,” he spat towards Sirius, knowing his words would ignite rage in Remus’s pack mate. “Left him in Germany with some friends. Real nice wizards. They promised me to take good care of him.”

“If he’s hurt, so help me Merlin, I will find you and--”

“And do what exactly? I’d be careful if I were you, wizard. Our kind do not take kindly to threats, even if they are empty.”  
  
Sirius’s hand balled into a fist, his knuckles turning white from the strain as his jaw set. Hermione’s hand rose to join the other on Sirius, tugging him back, away from Fenrir and Roy. “Sirius, stop it!” she hissed.  
  
“I’d listen to your bitch, Sirius. Sounds like she might be the only one with half a brain.”

“Excuse me?” It was Hermione’s turn for anger. Pausing her retreat, her eyes narrowed at the Werewolf. She knew of his viciousness, but the memory seemed distant now as she stood in front of him. In her youth she might have taken the insult without complaint, but time and experience had changed her from the naive little girl she was the last time she saw him. “I am not property,” she said through gritted teeth, her wand hand twitching slightly.  
  
“No..you aren’t, are you? You haven’t been claimed by his pack….but I can tell you’re not innocent either. Seems like you’ve gone into heat and let more than one have his fill.” Gold eyes appraised Hermione, roving over the curves of her body. Before she could react to his lascivious comment, the sound of a spell whizzed past her ear. The white hot spell connected with his face, the force knocking him flat on his back. Hermione watched as his face began to swell in disfigurement. She would have recognized that jinx anywhere, as she had used it once before, casting it on Harry to attempt to hide his identity. A Stinging Jinx was effective at delaying your enemies, but certain did not stop them.

Hermione’s eyes widened at the scene before her. As Fenrir lay in a haze on the earthen floor, she turned around quickly to face the direction the spell had come from. Sirius stood firm, his fingers curled so tightly around the ironwood wand his knuckles popped.

Her world seemed to be stuck in slow motion in the moment as she stared at Sirius, slack-jawed. The breeze that had been picking up throughout the day howled through the trees surrounding them. Her curls slipped across her cheeks in response as a shiver ran down her spine from the chill in the air.

Sirius’s gray eyes stayed locked on the prone werewolf, watching as Royston dropped to help his Alpha. “Yer gonna regret that,” the pudgey werewolf snapped, turning to look over to Sirius with eyes full of violence. Sirius began to laugh in response to the threat, tilting his head back just slightly to show his arrogance.

Hermione felt the spell as it whizzed past her ear, the heat radiating from the bright flash of red make her skin prickle in response. Having missed its target, the spell slammed into a tree before her, scouring into the bark with a deep burning slice.

She did not have time to even shout before Sirius pulled her body behind his. His left hand held Hermione protectively against his body as he exchanged fire with Royston, who in addition to being a werewolf, was also a wizard, much like his Alpha. The two sent a barrage of spells toward each other, neither wanting to back down and turn tail.

Hermione’s mind kick-started like an old engine, roaring to life as the sound of an explosion from a particularly close blasting curse exploded a tree beside her. Lifting her wand in preparation, she ducked under Sirius’s arm to cast a stunning spell in the direction of the werewolf. It connected with Royston, but just barely. He had been distracted by Sirius, deflecting a curse that was sent his way. When he noticed Hermione pop out from behind him, it was too late to avoid it entirely. As he dodged, the spell landed on the right side of his chest. 

She did not wait for his body to hit the floor before her hand went out, pulling Sirius’s wand away from his target sharply. Fenrir had began to rise, his own wand withdrawn in preparation for his assault. They could certainly take the two wizards in a duel, but she knew the noises from the spells would soon draw the rest of the pack that lay beyond Fenrir and Royston. “Sirius, RUN!” Pulling her with him, she turned quickly away from the werewolves as the sky began to crackle under the weight of rainclouds.

She moved quickly through the trees, ducking under heavy branches that hung low in their path. The sound of howling in the distance could be heard, causing the baby-fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand. “Sirius, do you have any fucking idea what you just did?”

Sirius dislodged his hand from hers, long stride overtaking hers quickly as he moved beside her. “What I did? I defended you.” His gray eyes rolled, thinking her ungrateful for his attempt at chivalry. “You _should_ be thanking me.”  
  
“Thank you?! For what? You attacked an Alpha, you fucking idiot!”

“I’ve danced with a werewolf plenty of times.” His casual tone only seemed to set her off more. Did he not realize the repercussions of his actions? Remus was a juvenile werewolf in this timeline, not yet finished growing his skill or power. The tango for dominance that Sirius and Remus danced during the full moon at Hogwarts would not hold a candle to the power that Fenrir and a full wolf pack would possess.  
  
Hermione reached out, pulling their running bodies to a halt abruptly. “This isn’t one werewolf, it’s a whole bloody pack!!” she snapped, her finger jutting into his chest roughly as she backed him up against a tree. ‘And though she be but little, she is fierce.’ It was as if the famous words from the playwright who had provided her name were written for her in just this moment, as she advanced upon Sirius, backing him up against a tree in her fury “This isn’t a joke, Sirius. They’re going to be looking for us!”

“Then let them find us! We can take a few fucking wolves, Hermione!” Reaching out, his hand captured hers as her finger connected with his sternum. “Don’t...fucking...do that!” he snarled the warning, gray eyes flashing to the witch in warning as the animal inside him began to take over.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, her hand being sharply withdrawn from his. The sky rippled with a flash that ignited the forest before the sound of thunder echoed around them. The sky’s noise barely registered through her fury. It was as if she had fallen overboard in the waves of the storm the brewed behind his gray eyes.  “Or what?” she challenged, heart beat pounding against her chest in a dangerous rhythm.

Sirius just shook his head at her, not backing down from her as he let out a low growl in the back of his throat. As the animalistic noises reached her ears, the embers low in her belly went aflame. This back and forth that had begun months ago was coming to a head, neither of them reasonable enough to surrender to the other. It was as if in that moment the heavens parted over them and raindrops began their descent to the forest floor. As their bodies stood toe to toe their clothes began to soak in the sudden downpour.

Hermione set her jaw, determined to ignore the way her core burned in response to the feral look Sirius was giving her. Reaching up, her hand connected with the center of his chest in a hard shove, causing his back to rub roughly against the tree behind him.

Hermione was fast, but Sirius was faster, having perfected his reflexes during his years of marauding through the Forbidden Forest during the full moons. His right hand wrapped tightly around her wrist as her hand landed on his chest, sweeping his leg out to cause her to buckle to the forest floor before him in the mud.

A soft cry left her as his fingers tightened around her wrist, his rough display of dominance causing her heartbeat to quicken. As her knees sank into the mud, Sirius leaned down, his face dangerously close to hers as he growled. The animal inside him wanted to show her the pack order, and in this particular case, her place was definitely underneath him.

Her tongue darted out, running across her bottom lip as she felt his hot breath through the cold rain clung to her skin. “Sirius, let me go.” Her voice was flat, but her body was clearly showing signs of the electricity that was passing between them. Twisting her arm, she attempted to dislodge herself from his grip. When he wouldn’t release, she pulled roughly against him. “Let.Me.GO!”

About to respond to her request for release, Sirius paused as he heard the rustle of breaking tree branches in the distance. They were close. With a rough tug, he yanked Hermione off the wet ground and his other arm went around her waist. As she began to fight against his hold, his grip tightened. “Stop moving, witch.” With a twist he latched her wrists behind her back in one of his hands. Like a caged animal she struggled against him, only pausing her movements when she heard a howl from a wolf just behind the treeline. Her body froze against Sirius, giving the wizard just enough time to Apparate them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thank you to Islndgurl777. Without her, this would be a literal mess. <3
> 
> The inspiration for the werewolf pack in Romania comes directly from the Romani culture, if you're not familiar I encourage you to look it up! We are just scratching the surface of this story, so I hope you're in for the long haul, and I promise you this tension between Hermione and Sirius will come to a head....perhaps maybe even the next chapter. *wags brows*
> 
> Be sure to check back soon!  
> ~ MM


	8. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.
> 
> For those who do not wish to read smut, I would recommend skipping this chapter. For those of us who enjoy a bit of a naughty read, proceed.

**May 8th, 1979 - Hoia Baciu Forest, Romania  - 20:00**

When they landed inside the warded campsite, Hermione took advantage of Sirius’s stumble to break free from his hold. Quickly she shoved him to the ground without hesitation. When he landed on the ground, his backside was coated in the thick mud that had begun to pool outside their tent.

She moved swiftly past his fallen form, pushing her way into the tent. Removing her soaked jacket she threw the sodden clothing against the wooden floor as a noise of frustration escaped her. He had just compromised the mission because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. Pacing in front of the kitchen table, her fingers pushed her curls back off her face as she tried to calm down. They would have to leave Romania as soon as possible, and Remus was likely to be moved from Germany. The Death Eaters would be told soon they were looking for him, as Fenrir would not keep their visit a secret for long.

The small hairs on the back of her neck rose when Hermione heard the canvas tent flap snap open and heavy footfall followed. Sirius approached her from behind, spinning her around to shove her against the pole in the center of the tent that held the roof up. 

She gasped when their eyes connected. Before her no longer stood the man she knew, but instead the animal inside of him. His gray eyes stormed with a need to dominate the object of his desire. She was his equal in almost everything, easily keeping up with Sirius during firefights and returning his quick wit without hesitation, but he was determined to dominate her in the one area he might have a chance.

Gray eyes danced across her flushed cheeks, down the length of her neck before landing on her heaving chest. As his eyes caught a the sight of her pebbled nipples beneath her wet shirt, a low growl was let out.

Hermione's skin ignited underneath his gaze. Her body betrayed her brain, responding to him without even needing to be touched. Gulping down the last bit of restraint she held, she reached out, pressing her palms against his chest to push him back.

His hands rose, grabbing her wrists and he pulled them above her head, pinning her against the pole as he moved in, pressing his frame against hers. Each breath that filled her lungs caused hardened nipples to rub against him through her bra. Hermione’s eyes dropped from his feral gaze to look at torso. His white shirt clung to his form, the outlines of his tattoos below bled through the wet fabric. 

Her lips parted just slightly as a ragged breath left her mouth, and her attention went back up to his face as the sound of his own raspy breath came to her ears. His own eyes were barely visible through the curtain of wet, black hair that hung over his face as he dipped his head down to watch their bodies press together. From what she could see, his pupils were blown. Wide with desire. Desire for something they both knew should not happen, although the animal inside had clearly had taken over. The repercussions would be something they worry about later.  Her tongue darted out of her mouth to wet her lips and that was all the invitation Sirius needed.

His head craned forward as his mouth connected with hers, crashing into a kiss with a ferocious need. His fingers uncurled their stranglehold upon her wrists to allow his hand to run down her arms, curving up the base of her neck before disappearing into the mass of wet curls. Curling his fingers into fists he gave a slight tug as the base of her neck to tip her head further back as pressed against her, hips grinding a slow roll against her own, his body enveloping her frame in his. 

The sensation of the tug of her hair elicited a small moan from her. Lips parted to let it tumble into the air and the invitation for his tongue to enter her mouth was given.  She was better than any drink he had tasted or any sweet he had be given. This was the flame that fed his desires, he had tasted her twice before he had begun to crave her mouth. She was morphine, and he a man too lost to fight the vice any longer.

Her body trembled as his left hand unwound from her curls and it made its way down the hollow of her throat. Fingers dancing delicately against her wet skin until his hand ran down her sternum, stretching the neckline of her shirt down to expose more skin to him. His hand shifted its course to graze lightly over her breast before cupping it gently, testing the weight of her breast in his palm as the pad of his thumb dragged over the budded nipple.    
  
“Ughh…” Her mouth broke from his, her head tipping back as her moan filled the tent. His forehead dropped to press against her shoulder, the length of his desire for her was brushed against her as she moved her hips in relentlessly, seeking friction through their wet jeans. His breath trembled against her skin as he tried to compose himself. Sirius did not want to rush this, but she was making it hard with those noises, and the way she ground against him wantonly. His lips brushed against her collarbone, teeth nipping gently at the delicate skin before he began to press open-mouth kisses against her neck.

Hermione’s hands instantly went to the back of his head, fingers curling into his wet hair. “Sirius,” she whispered before his mouth found that spot just beneath her ear and it was all she could do not to buckle under the pleasure that filled her. Her  reasons to stop this had long tumbled into oblivion, her focus was now intent on finding release.

His tongue pressed into the soft flesh once more, hoping to entice another moan from her plump lips as his index finger and thumb closed upon the bud of her nipple, rolling the bundle though her wet shirt. Her back arched into his fingers, trying to press her breast further into his hand to encourage the motions.   
  
“Ughh!” The fire building low in her core began to roar, causing knickers to become wet with her desire for him as her body responded to his ministrations. Her fingers trembled as she dragged her hands down to his chest and pushed, gently at first until it was obvious Sirius was not going to dislodge from her without a little force.   
  
As she pushed him away, his hands dropped from her hair and breast and began to reach for her hips, not ready to let her go. His mouth was slack, lips swollen from their brutal kisses and gray eyes hungry with desire as he watched her. For what she assumed was the first time in his entire life, Sirius did not utter a single word.

Three steps back was was all it took for the tops of the back her thighs to connect with the wooden table. Her eyes locked on his, and in a moment of pure uninhibitedness she reached to the bottom of her shirt. Fingers curled around the hem and she pulled the garment off her body. It clung to her with resistance. The heaviness of the rain was still trapped in it as it hit the ground with a splat. There was no going back now, even if she wanted to turn tail and run, she wasn’t sure her body would let her. Around her neck the long chain of her Time-Turner lay. Plucking the jewelry from around her neck she let it clatter to the ground next to her shirt.   
  
Sirius’s body shifted as his muscles flexed in response to seeing her without her top. His fingers unfisted at his side, itching to run across her belly to test his theory on how soft her skin truly was. Her hand went up to still his movement, she could see the animal inside him ready to lunge, and attack. She wanted this moment. She needed to know she had the upper hand, even if temporarily. “Good boy.” A wicked grin spread across her lips as she praised the dog for his obedience. Fingers quickly undid the row of silver buttons that held her jeans together. Pushing the heavy material from her hips, she kicked it away before reaching back and pushing herself up on the table, legs parting just slightly to give him a view of the damp center of her knickers.

And there she was before him, in nothing but her knickers and bra, wet hair surrounding her flushed face. The sight of her in this state of arousal was enough to make the wizard drunk, a lesser man might have dropped to his knees and begged to touch her. Sirius was not a lesser wizard, and he knew he’d have her begging before the end of the night. Shrugging out of his leather jacket he quickly followed suit, stripping just to his boxers before he approached her. Slipping between her parted thighs, his hands ran up her thighs, fingers spread to touch as much of her skin as possible.   
  
The feeling caused her skin to prickle in response, sending goosebumps up her arms and thighs as the anticipation for his hands to travel higher simmered in her core. As his fingers moved across her skin, his mouth captured hers in another searing kiss, pushing his tongue past her teeth with a fevered need.

Hermione's hands landed upon his chest, fingers feeling the lean muscles underneath. As her exploration began she could feel the occasional raised bits of skin where a scar lay, likely left behind as a reminder of a spell that connected with his body during a skirmish. Her own skin held several similar scars, reminders of her time during the first war and Auror training.    
  
“Oh!” The sting of his bite upon her bottom lip caused her to jump, bringing her mind back to the moment. Her flushed skin raised in approval from his bite, she could feel the rumbling from his throat as he chuckled against her mouth, his fingers stroking down to feel the goosebumps on the outside of her thighs. 

His mouth parted from hers as he pulled back to watch her face. Fingers on his right hand danced across the junction of her hip and thigh. “Tell me, Little Bird,”  he began, his husky voice dripping with desire. “Want me to let you go now?” Left brow lifted in question as his index and middle finger dragged across the center of her knickers, pressing with just enough force to elicit a moan form her. Hermione’s knees parted wider to allow him more access as her hips rocked forward against his palm.

Brown eyes flashed at his question, as if to say ‘don’t you dare stop’. Her hands dropped from his chest to brace against the table behind her. Her head shook no, fingers curling against the grain of the wood as her hips rose slightly to press more against him.   
  
A smirk lifted from his mouth as he peeled the seam of her underwear from her mound, pushing the fabric aside, his fingers slithered through her dampened curls. He bit his bottom lip as he slipped past her folds to feel the silken skin of her pussy, eyes no longer dancing with playful flirtation, instead turning dark. Curling his palm up he pressed his fingers deeper inside her until his palm was flat against the apex of her slit.   
  
Hermione’s eyes closed as a shaky moan left her throat, head tipping back as her feet lifted to rest against his hips, allowing him more access to continue his ministrations. She felt his fingers find a steady, yet slow rhythm, her hips rocking in time to meet his fingers to encourage them along. Her hands slid down the wooden table until she lay flat against it. Her eyes seemed to roll to the back of her head as his palm pressed against her clit, grinding into the bundle of nerves. Trembling hands ran across her belly, fingers dipping with the contours of her skin before they curled over her bralet and she pulled at the material, fumbling with the center latch that held the enclosure together.    
  
His free hand shifted from her hip to stroke her thigh in encouragement as his fingers worked into her core, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. The heels of her feet pressed into his hip bones as her hips arched up, seeking to allow his fingers deeper into her body as she teetered close to the edge of bliss.

His fingers curled towards the side, pressing firmly against the inside walls of her pussy, searching for a spot he knew he could find hidden within. As he explored her, his palm pressed against her clit, grinding against the small bundle to bring her closer to release. As his fingers pressed into the soft tissue he was searching for inside her, her moans reached an octave she didn’t think possible. Her eyes sprung open and head lifted to look at him as he stilled his fingers deep inside her, his eyes glued to her flushed face as his own wicked smirk was worn.   
  
Her fingers worked the clasp of her bralette open with haste, letting the fabric fall from her chest, exposing her pert breasts to him, nipples taut with need. Pushing up on her elbows she let the fabric fall from her shoulders before her left arm went out, clasping her hand around the back of  Sirius’s neck and she pulled herself up to him. “Don’t tease me.”   
  
Her mouth crushed into his as her hips scooted down, plunging herself upon his stilled fingers. His tongue pushed into her mouth as they connected again. He would have time to worship her body later; right now he needed to claim her. Make sure she knew what sort of game she was playing. 

His fingers withdrew from her core and it withdrew a small whimper from Hermione at the sudden emptiness she felt. Moving his hands to the delicate material of her knickers, he pulled, stretching the fabric beyond its ability and the sound of it tearing was heard before she felt it fall away, leaving her entirely exposed.    
  
Feet at his hips pushed down against his wet boxers, her hand on his neck dropped to assist in her mission, feeling the curve of his well defined arse along the way and when the sound of them hitting the floor was heard, her heart thumped. Moving up his abdomen, her fingers ran over the lean muscles, running lightly across his pink nipples before rest against his shoulders.   
  
Normally this is where she would hear ‘Ready?’ or ‘Are you sure, ‘Mione?’ but instead of the reassurance from her partner, she felt the head of Sirius’s member press against her folds. His hand curled around the base of his cock against his dark curls, guiding his cock to position and with one swift move he was buried in her.

“Ughh...Yess…” She gasped against his mouth, fingers curling against his skin. Claw marks left upon his pale skin as he began to rock into her body, not allowing time for her to adjust to his width, instead withdrawing to plunge back in with a vicious snap of his hips.

This wasn’t romantic, or sweet. This was about release. The time for flowers and empty promises was later. Instead Sirius sought to bring this witch to release and if he was lucky, more than once. His fingers pressed into her hips, snapping her to him with each thrust. “H-harder,” she chanted against his mouth, right hand drifting him from his shoulder to the back of his neck to hold him close as her head lulled back as the waves of pleasure overtook her.

The table scratched against the wooden floor of the tent, shifting with each thrust Sirius made into Hermione. She could feel the furniture strain against the motions. Tilting her hips up, he slammed back into Hermione, feeling the swollen walls of her pusssy constrict on his member as he hit a particular spot inside her. “R-Right there!!” Her quivering voice cried out. Her head lifted to look into his eyes. Her pupils were wide with need for him to bring her to release. “Gods Sirius, right there. Don’t stop,” she begged.

Her pleas caused his hips to thrust in a frenzied race to bring her to fulfillment, her release the only thing on the forefront of his mind. Pushing and pulling into her tight wet cunt he sought to slam into the spot she requested. Her body bubbled with anticipation as it felt the burst of energy building. Sirius’s left hand moved from her hip to press into the apex her cunt.

Index and middle finger pressed against her clit, trapping the bundle of nerves between the valley his two fingers made together and he began to roll it in small circles in time with his thrusts. That was all she needed. Once, twice and upon his third go around she fell into oblivion.

Electricity ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as she crash of orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, her nails pressing half moon dents into his porcelain skin. “Sirius!!” She cried as she rode the waves of her release, hips rocking in time with his.

Her walls fluttered around him, milking his cock. His fingers kept up their motion, swirling her clit as he pounded into her, wanting to draw this out. His own pressure to release was building inside him, and he knew he would not be able to hold out much longer. His eyes lifted to her face when he felt her come undone, watching as the throes of passion overtook her slim frame. His lips parted, panting as he slapped his hips into her, driving his own need for release closer to the edge.   
  
Fingers left her mound when he felt her walls stop fluttering around his cock, returning to hold her hips, his fingers curled into the tender flesh as his pace quickened. His head dropped, chin pressing against his chest as he drove into her core.   
  
She knew what he needed from her, his body was on the edge of the cliff, needing just a small push to send him over. Her hands slid up his arms, curling into his shoulder blades, causing her nails so scratch against his tattooed skin as her hips rose to meet his with each thrust. “Come for me, Sirius,” she rasped in encouragement as she leaned forward, crushing her breasts against his heaving chest, her mouth against the shell of his ear and her teeth nipped at his lobe.

Those words were all he needed to unravel. With a guttural growl his hips stilled as he buried his cock deep within her pussy. His head turned and teeth latched onto the junction of her shoulder and neck that was offered to him when she leaned forward, fingers pressing bruisingly into her hips as he spilled his seed deep within her. She hissed in pain as his assault, but didn’t dare pull away, or tell him to stop.

His cock pulsed deep inside her as he came down from his own release. Fingers removing themselves from the dents on her hips as he sought to regain his breath between the licks and kisses he placed against the bite marks on her skin. Not yet ready to unbury his softening cock from within her, he eased her body into his. His arms circled around her slender frame and his fingers began to trail lazily up and down her spine.

Hermione's legs were locked around his waist, her heels resting upon the tops of his thighs. Scooting as close as she could, her head rested against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she listened to his heartbeat. “Sirius.” Her voice voice broke the comfortable silence. 

“Hm?” His head turned into hers, the three day old stubble tickling her cheek as he nuzzled against her, soft lips brushing against the shell of her ear. He could stay like this forever, their bodies recovering in post-coital bliss as they pet and touched each other’s sweat-soaked skin. 

Hermione’s eyes closed as he kissed his way down her neck. Occasionally he would open his mouth and let his tongue dip out of his mouth to taste her. A soft breath left her parted lips, fingers from her left hand moving into his hair. “As much as I am enjoying this,” she began, head rolling to the side to allow him more access to sample her. “The table is quiet uncomfortable….and there is a large bed across the room.”   
  
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He chuckled against her skin, his hot breath washing over her in waves and he slowly withdraw his softened cock. Reaching down his hands locked her thighs around his waist, making sure she crossed her ankles at his lower back before he lifted her off of the creaky wooden table.

Hermione laughed, arms curling around his shoulders as he carried her across the room, tossing her on the springy bed with a playful growl. Naked body bounced upon the mattress as her laughter filled the room. Sirius’s eyes danced as he watched the witch crawl back on the bed, her head hitting the pillow, spreading her curls like like a halo.

“You should do that more often.”

“Fuck you?” Hermione questioned, her head tilting to the side slightly as she watched him stand beside the bed, not yet making a move to crawl in beside her. Reaching over she patted the bed beside her in invitation, beckoning him to join her.

“Well…...yeah,” It was his turn to laugh in response. Lifting his legs he crawled on his knees over to the witch, but instead of lounging on the bed next to her, he crawled over her prone frame. His knees slid between her legs, parting them further as he moved up her body. “But I mean laugh.” 

Hermione’s eyes flashed with desire as she watched him crawl over her, hands reaching out to push his hair back from his face before cupping his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing against the coarse hair slowly. “I’d rather do something other than laugh right now,” her husky voice dripped as she lifted her hips to press against his.

Sirius’s gray eyes closed at the sensation, and when they reappeared, they were already aflame. Hermione pulled his face towards hers, mouth capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than before. 

She knew the ward they placed earlier would hold through the night, and tomorrow they could figure out how to return to England. All thought disappeared from her mind as he slid his cock back inside her swollen sex, and although in the very back of her mind she knew this should not be happening, she couldn’t help but flip the switch to shut off those feelings because it was as if he was made to fit snugly between her parted thighs. Right now she would focus on tumbling into their own personal version of nirvana, leaving the logistics of this dance they began to be determined later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy your chapter 2 days early, as I am going to a three day training at my work and would have been unavailable to post. Thanks for sticking around to make it this far! :)


	9. Undisclosed Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**May 10th, 1979 - Tutshill, West Country  - 20:45**

Sirius had captured a Northern hawk-owl and charmed the bird to bring a message to Dumbledore the morning following their night of reckless behavior. It had taken two days for the bird to return, so naturally Sirius and Hermione busied themselves in other ways. They rarely found themselves dressed, instead choosing to turn their tent into a war zone of passion. The pain and pleasure were mixed into one emotion and Hermione greedily used Sirius to lick her proverbial wounds. Sirius did not dare push her for more, as he knew it would scare her away. Instead, he took whatever she would give him without pause.

Hermione hated travelling by Portkey, Sirius had been reminded of this fact more than once before their departure from Romania, but the perks were far greater than Muggle transportation when traveling such long distances. Dumbledore sent no note along with the matchbox that was tucked inside a deep purple bag tied around the owl’s leg, but they both knew what it was.

Once activated, the pair were taken to a familiar Muggle farm on the outskirts of Tutshill, landing in the same field that she had months ago. The irony was not lost on Hermione in the moment. She hesitated before lifting herself up from the dirty floor, waiting for the nausea to wash away. Before she could question why Dumbledore had chosen this location, Sirius’s fingers laced with her own, pulling her attention away from their surroundings and back to the man beside her.

His hair seemed to shimmer in the setting sun, casting a warm glow on him that matched the pinks and purples of the sky. He wore a simple pair of Muggle bluejeans that hugged hips just enough to leave little to the imagination of what lay beneath, and a faded navy Puddlemere United shirt sat beneath his beloved leather jacket. Oh that damn leather jacket. How one man could look like sex on two legs just by adding a simple garment was beyond her.

Tugging her along with him, Sirius began across the field, boots breaking the wheat with each step they took. Hermione followed dutifully, secretly enjoying the intimate gesture of the handhold. “Don’t we need to Apparate?” she questioned as she dodged a mud puddle, the side of her body brushing his.  
  
“I need to get my bike home,” he began, pausing once they reached the fence to turn, his hand sliding from Hermione’s to encircle her waist as he tugged her close. He used the opportunity of their closeness to bend low to steal a kiss, his lips gentle on hers, but promising something much more. As her hands came to rest on his shoulders, melting into his body as the setting sun danced a warm embrace across her back, he broke the kiss. Lifting her up, Hermione let out a soft yip in surprise, which caused Sirius to laugh.

“You can’t do that,” she protested, stepping backwards from his reach as he followed her over the fence line. Her hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans as she walked backwards in front of him, matching his pace so he couldn’t reach her. The burgundy and brown flannel that sat open on her slender frame fluttered in the spring breeze, exposing more of the skimpy white camisole underneath.

Sirius eyes dropped from her playful grin to rove over the tops of her breasts, noting the way the cool air had caused her nipples to pebble in objection. It was much warmer here than in the Hoia Baciu Forest, but still not enough to for the thin garment. His lips were licked before he began to worry his bottom lip, attempting to increase his speed to catch up to Hermione’s retreating form. When her right hand went in front of her chest, snapping her fingers before pointing two fingers up towards her eyes, Sirius’s attention to one of the most favorite parts of her body was broken. “Do what?” he laughed before he attempted to reach out to her, fingers snatching at her shirt, but she was quicker than him, jutting her body backwards so all he could do was graze his fingertips along her abdomen.

Hermione returned his laughter, her right hand going to swat at his reaching hand in a playful response. “Start something we cannot finish until later.” Brown eyes winked at Sirius and as she stumbled over the gravel beneath her feet, Sirius took advantage of her misstep. Lunging forward, his arms circled around her waist, hoisting the witch off her feet and over his shoulder as she squealed in surprise. His hands gripped the backs of her thighs, carrying her like a hunter who’d captured his prey, trying to hold her wiggling form still.

As his right hand rose, he swatted at her backside, fingers snapping against the tight denim across her heart-shaped ass. “Don’t tempt me to take you here, witch,” he teased, enjoying the way she let out the unintentional whimper as his hand smoothed over backside to soothe the spank away.

Her hands went down, pressing against the planes of his back until they paused at his lower back, pushing against him to lift herself up slightly. Her curls cascaded around her face, making it difficult to see anything beyond the gravel road. “As much as I would enjoy that, I need to get somewhere I can write the report to Alastor.” They had not discussed their failed mission since the first time they lay together; instead they had filled the void of words with moans and pleas for release as they studied the curves of each others’ bodies. Her words were a reminder that they did have much larger fish to fry than just determining the nature of their relationship.

Sirius’s hand paused its motions on her backside and he slowly eased her to the ground once he had stopped walking, hand lifting from her hip to tuck curls behind her ear before cupping the side of her face. “Come home with me then?” his voice was hopeful as the pair had not yet established if she would not take her leave once they had returned to England.

Of course he did not know that she would have nowhere else to go, short of the cottage outside Salisbury. Hermione wasn’t technically a member of the original Order of the Phoenix, so without Sirius she was not privy to the locations of the other safe houses that she could use to stay out of sight. “I can’t stay for long,” she warned, hand coming up to rest gently over his own.

“I don’t care.”

Hermione’s heart caught in her throat at his words. This was just sex, right? He wasn’t asking for more. She couldn’t give more! Technically, she had already fucked up, by allowing herself to sleep with him (more than once). She could not allow her heart to mix in with the job she had to do. Dropping her hand from his, she slipped from his grasp, turning her body away  as she moved toward the abandoned Muggle homestead. “Then I’ll stay. But you have to promise me something.”

Sirius worried his bottom lip once more, not moving to catch up to her as she walked away. He could see she was conflicted, and he knew he might have a shot at something more if he was a patient man. Something he was not generally known for. “What?” Double-stepping he quickly caught up beside her, his hands fisting into his jacket pockets casually.  
  
“You’ll do that one thing with your tongue again.” A wicked grin flashed his way before she nudged him with her hip. “You know, the one that makes my toes curls?” Laughing as he stumbled away from her, she darted down the road. Running towards the barn, all she could do was laugh as a growl could be heard coming from the man behind her.

* * *

 

**May 10th, 1979 - Puddlemere  - 22:00**

Sirius was reclined in his bed, the latest issue of a Muggle motorcycle magazine open in his lap as he lazily flipped through the pages. Hermione and he had gone to dinner at his favorite fish and chip place down the road, as neither had felt like cooking after their day of travel.

After a full belly, Sirius took a steamy shower alone, much to his displeasure. Hermione used the time to pick up the empty bottles and take out boxes that still littered in apartment, insisting that if she was going to stay overnight that at least the place could be kept in semi-decent order.

When he had exited the shower, he had noticed she left the post on the foot of his bed. The Daily Prophet still lay folded on his night stand, but the Muggle magazine he special ordered was something he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. Spilling into a pair of navy plaid pajama bottoms, he lounged on the top of the covers.

He didn’t even look up to Hermione when she walked into the room, messy curls pulled up in a loose bun on the top of her head. “Any hot water left?” Her voice broke the silence in the room, pulling Sirius from ogling the latest Triumph Bonneville.

“Should be. I didn’t wank or nothing.” He glanced up to Hermione who was shaking her head at his crass words as she slipped into the bathroom. Smirking he looked back down, dog-earing the magazine and he moved into the living room to grab his leather jacket from the back of the couch. He dug through the pockets to retrieve his packet of cigarettes and wand as he walked back into his room.

He knew Hermione did not like it when he smoked, so he would take advantage of her being indisposed and slip out onto his balcony to have a quick cigarette. Tossing the leather coat onto the bed, he pulled open the slider and shut it softly behind him.

Standing in the crisp night air, the soft breeze blew his damp locks about his face as he lit his cigarette. Leaning on the edge of the balcony with his back to the apartment, he watched the street before him. It was quiet in Puddlemere, no sort of nightlife to speak of, but occasionally a wizard or witch would have one too many at The Siren’s Kiss down the road and he could catch a glimpse of a scuffle between the barkeep and patron.

The cigarette trembled between his lips as a shiver ran down his spine. Inhaling deeply, his eyes closed attempting to finish quickly so he might get back inside. He should have worn his jacket, but was hoping not to give away his secret of taking the smoke, as Hermione had already joked in Romania she wouldn’t kiss him after he’s had one.

“Fuck it,” he softly muttered as he flicked the half finished cigarette away. The still smoldering cigarette landed on the street below in a soft tumble of glowing red embers. Arms wrapping around himself as he moved back to the warmth of his apartment, rubbing up and down his naked arms in an attempt to warm himself.

“You should really stop doing that, Sirius,” Hermione’s voice called out from the edge of the bathroom door. Sirius glanced up, wanting to justify his actions but suddenly the retort he had vanished from his thoughts.

Hermione stood leaning against the door frame, his beloved leather jacket hung loosely off her shoulder, while underneath the only thing she wore were a white cotton knickers. Her hair was loosely dried magically, cascading down her back in soft waves.

A small smirk washed over her features as she watched him rove his eyes over her body, taking in every curve she held, pausing especially on the swells of her breasts that were very visible as the jacket covered her breasts just from her nipples out.

“You know, I quite like this jacket on you...but,” her hands ran up to the lapels, feeling the condition leather slide beneath the pads of her fingers as she adjusted the jacket on her slender frame. “I think it looks better on me, don’t you think?” Cocking her head to the side, she lifted a brow in question before reaching beside her to the bathroom wall to flick off the light before the door was closed behind her.

She walked into the room, noting that Sirius’s eyes followed her every move, much like an animal stalking its prey. She could feel his eyes run across the tops of her thighs and make a burning path leading up her body; it was as if his look alone was enough to start a fire.

As she passed in front of him, just out of his reach, a shaky exhale could be heard. “No...It looks absolutely terrible on you. You should take it off.” Moving forward, he walked up behind the witch, who was beginning to turn down the blankets he had been laying upon earlier.

Sliding his hands over her hips from behind, the jacket bunched up on his forearms as he stroked up her sides.

Hermione paused what she was doing to lean back into his embrace, eyes closing as she felt his hot breath wash over her neck. “Oh? I’m not so sure about that,” she teased, as her head leaned back on his shoulder.

Leaning down Sirius first nuzzled against her soft curls. He could smell his shampoo’s scent, but also her own. The smell of wild flowers and fresh honey, the same smell he had begun to crave. Dropping his head lower as her head lulled to the side, providing him more access, his mouth connected with the junction between her neck and shoulders, pressing open mouthed kisses against her sensitive skin which already bore his love bites in various stages of healing.

Pressing her ass into his groin, a soft moan escaped her as she felt his length begin to harden. Slotting his length in the valley of her cheeks, she rotated her hips against him, enjoying the way his already rigid length seemed to turn to stone at her ministrations. Licking her bottom lip, she reached out to guide his hand from its place upon her ribs down across her belly, dipping his fingers below the waistband of her knickers.

Without needing any further direction, his fingers brushed against her curls, feeling them already slick with desire for him. He parted from her skin, lifting his mouth to her ear as uneven breaths were released. “You’re already so wet, Little bird….is this all for me?” His voice was husky, dripping with desire as his index finger slipped between her folds to graze her clit.

“Yes!!” Her thighs pressed together, trying to hold his hand in place as he began to stroke and pluck at her little nub. Her breath quickened, causing her chest to rise and fall in rapid succession as he strummed her like a guitar. She felt his other palm ghost along the skin on the side of her ribs, lightly brushing against her breast. His fingers began kneed the soft supple flesh of her breast, but made no move to touch her aching nipples that had begun to pebble in desire.

“Should I fuck you in my jacket? That way every time I wear it all I’ll be able think of is your tight little pussy begging for me?” His teeth nipped as her ear, chuckling as she moaned in response to his words. He knew they would egg her on, closer to the release he intended to bring her to with his hand.

When she did not respond, the fingers dancing across the skin on her breast moved inward, pinching her nipple between his index, middle finger and thumb in a firm hold as at the same moment he thrust two fingers into her sodden core. His fingers began a slow repetitive rhythm stroking into her core as the fingers upon her nipple mimicked the pace, creating an almost sucking sensation with each stroke. A cry of pleasure was released, her body arching into his hands as she trembled against him.

Sirius began to slide his cock against her arse, sliding his length against her in time with the thrust of his fingers as he let her come undone. Hermione’s eyes were closed, flushed body responding to the work of his hands like a cat in heat. She was practically dripping down the inside of her thighs by the time he curled his fingers to press against the inner wall of her vagina.

As two of his fingers brushed against the soft spot he had begun to know to well, her knees buckled and he dropped his arm from her breast to secure her around the waist as she cried out, her orgasm rippling through her body, causing her pussy to pulsate around his hand. As she cried out her hands gripped his forearm that sat about her waist, fingernails digging half-moons into his skin.

When she finally calmed down from her high, Sirius slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing the digits coated in her cream to his mouth to taste her essence, lapping it up like the good dog he was. “Get on the bed, Hermione,” his husky voice whispered into her ear, his other hand going to back of the neck of his jacket, pulling it off her body to toss on the floor as she walked away from him.  
  
Hermione listened, as if in a trance, crawling on all fours to the center before turning to face him, sitting on her heels. Her cheeks were flushed, half-lidded eyes  almost entirely black due to her blown pupils. It was as if she was drunk from her orgasm, her body still begging for more.

Reaching down, Sirius pulled his cock free from the strain of his pajama bottoms, his fist stroking the engorged member as he walked over to the side of the bed. Hermione’s eyes dropped to his cock, mesmerized by the sight. His cock was thick and long, definitely larger than Ron’s, but not the biggest she had been with. What made her mouth water was the fact he curved just slightly to the left, which meant as he fucked her from behind, he could slam against that spot his fingers could reach so easily. The thick patch of hair that sat at its base was also enticing; she wanted to reach out and run her fingers through the coarse curls as he slid into her mouth.

Pink lips were licked as she watched a small trickle of liquid appear at the helmet of his dick. Glancing up, the middle of her bottom lip was bit. When he beckoned her over to the side of the bed, she scooted quickly. Her mouth pressed into his in a hungry kiss as her hand replaced Sirius’s on his cock. Fingers wrapped around the hardened flesh, beginning to stroke him. The head of his cock brushing against her abdomen, leaving a trail of his desire upon her flesh.

Sirius wasted no time removing her panties, choosing to vanish them instead of removing them physically from her body. He didn’t want her to part from his mouth, or his cock. With the fabric gone, his hands gripped her slender hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh on the side of her arse as he thrust into her hand. When he felt her other hand drop to cup his balls, squeezing them gently, he nearly came undone. Biting her bottom lip roughly, a growl was emitted in a warning. Pulling back from their lip-lock, he nudged his nose against hers before sliding his mouth to her ear. “As much as I’m enjoying this, I’d rather be inside you, Little bird.” His voice was hoarse, struggling to make coherent words.  

Hermione’s hands gave his cock and testicles one more squeeze before she was pushed back on the bed, her elbows lessening the blow as she bounced against the mattress springs. Before she could respond, Sirius was on her, knees spreading her thighs as he kneeled over her.

His hand ran up her side, thumb brushing over the swell of her breast before trailing up her arm to lace his fingers with hers above her head, his elbow pressed against the mattress beside her head. The other hand went to her hip, lifting her hips up just slightly before moving to the base of his cock as he slid his head against her slit, coating himself in her juices.

Hermione’s hips rose off the mattress as her left leg hooked around his waist, trying to push him inside her as a needy whimper left her lips. When she felt his head press against her entrance, her bottom lip was caught, fingers curling tightly inside his.

With a slow push, he penetrated past her slick folds. A growl was all he could manage as he sheathed himself inside her tight walls. His eyes closed, head dipping to press against her shoulder as he ground into her hips once fully inside her. As his cock rubbed against her walls in a lazy circle, her whimpers turned to moans. “Sirius,” she gasped, the heel of her foot pressing into his lower back as her other leg moved to join the other above his waist. “Fuck me.”

That was something he did not need to be told twice. Quickly a steady pace was set, plunging and withdrawing from her writhering body as he sought to bring her to completion once more. As her cries for him to drive into her harder and faster spilled from her lips, he rose up off the bed, his cock buried in her to the hilt as he put her legs over his shoulders.

Hermione’s went to her breasts, plucking and twisting her pebbled nipples as he fucked her with a reckless abandon, his cock hitting almost deeper and harder than before. Her cries seemed to reverberate off his walls, echoing into his ears with each slam. He was sure his neighbors would complain of their noisy lovemaking later, and perhaps in the future a silencing charm could be used, but right now he wanted everyone to know just how good he could make her feel. All of Puddlemere, fuck, all of the world would need to know that Sirius Orion Black could make Hermione Granger scream like a schoolgirl when brought her to orgasm.

The quivering started at her core, the walls of her pussy fluttering around his cock and moved outwards. Her thighs and legs trembled with the telltale sign that her release was close, and her breath was ragged between her moans, as if she couldn’t fill her lungs properly while he plunged into her.

Sirius knew she was close, his eyes glued to her flushed face as she moved her head from side to side with closed eyes as the trembling took ahold. “Hermione,” he grunted out, his fingers curling into the soft skin on her thighs to pull her tightly back against his thrusts. “Look at me.”

Her eyes cracked open and brown eyes connected with his. She was lost in her senses, consumed by the rapture that was so close, and only he could appease her. His lips were parted as she sucked in air, and as his hand dragged across her hip to the apex of her thighs, she barely noticed, too drunk on the passion he created. His index and ring finger parted her labia so his index and middle finger could find her clit easily, pressing the engorged bud between the valley his fingers created and he began to stroke the bundle with vigor.

His eyes went wide, mouth open to match as suddenly she was tumbling over the edge of oblivion, falling into her climax with a scream of his name. The climax washed over her in drugging waves in time with his fingers and cock that made her toes and fingers curl.

He watched her spasm with release, the punch drunk appearance of the witch who was in the throes of passion was enough to push him into his own release. With a loud growl, he slammed his hips tight against her, his seed spilling deeply inside her before he thrust in a few more times, the animalistic need to make sure it was buried deep inside her womb taking over.

When his cock and her pussy began to slow their erratic spasm, he collapsed over her. Sweaty bodies gliding against one another as he moved next to her recovering form on the bed, his cock leaving her achey core with a soft wet sound. His mouth began to rain soft kisses along her slick shoulders as he pulled her against his chest, arms wrapping around her waist before the slow stroke of his fingers up and down her spine began.

Hermione melted into him, her hands resting against his chest, feeling the rapid beating beneath. A slow grin fell into place as she regained thought, climbing out of her oblivion to join him back in reality in his bedroom. When his kisses moved from her shoulders up to the top of her head, she dipped her head down to rest against his chest, so the beating of his heart could be heard instead of felt. “Sirius,” Her voice was soft and breathy, as both were still trying to regain their composure.

“Yeah?”

“Do you do that with all the people who stay the night in your flat?” she joked, lifting her head, her chin was set against the center of his chest. Her curls had lost their soft appearance from earlier, instead they now tumbled around her wildly. Brown eyes watched as his face broke into an unabashed smile before a chuckle was heard.

Gray eyes opened, his head dipping down to look at her as his hand rose from her spine to smooth her curls down on the top of her head. “Only the ones I really like.” A wink was tossed her way in jest before he leaned down to steal a quick kiss before he felt a soft slap hit his chest.

She turned her head away from his, resting her ear against his heart once more to hide the slow blush that began to paint her cheeks. Reaching down, the covers were pulled over their naked bodies. The soft warm comforter was wrapped around them as she nuzzled in, a slow yawn leaving her lips as her eyes closed once more. “Goodnight Sirius.”

“Goodnight Little bird.” he returned, fingers winding their way through the length of her curls. It only took moments, but the need to sleep finally overcame their entwined bodies.

* * *

**May 1th, 1979 - Puddlemere  - 14:30**

Each time Hermione attempted to put quill to paper Sirius interrupted her in the most delicious of ways, not that she was complaining, but she was certain if she returned back to 1999 without a report again Kingsley would be less than pleased. She decided the only way to get any sort of work done, would be to send Sirius away.

She insisted that he needed to debrief the Order in person while she scribed the details. At first he was a bit sore about her pushing him to go, but she promised to stay one more night, so the wizard left without a fight.

Opening the window, Hermione let the owl fly from the flat, watching the large wings beat against the air as it took off into the darkening sky. Leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, she pressed her elbows into the linoleum. Her fingers toyed with the silver chain that held her Time-Turner around her neck, letting the links of the chain slide beneath her fingertips absentmindedly. Clad only in his faded Puddlemere United shirt from yesterday and a pair of knickers, she had intended to take a shower and dress before his return. However, when the front door to his flat was opened she knew that it was no longer an option.

Turning towards the front door, she jumped when Sirius slammed it roughly closed behind him as he walked into the flat. His jacket was roughly thrown against the floor in frustration as he wiped the back of his hand against his lip, which had been freshly split open. Taking in his full appearance, Hermione noticed his right cheek held the beginnings of bruises. Sirius had obviously been in a scuffle since she had last seen him. “Merlin, Sirius what happened to you?”

Sirius turned toward her voice, gray eyes storming. “Nothing.” His voice was clipped, clearly not wanting to discuss what had occurred at his debrief.

Moving toward her quickly, Sirius made his way into the kitchen and he opened a cabinet to her left, searching for what Hermione knew was behind its door. Stepping forward, she pulled a tumbler from the dish caddy next to the sink, setting it down on the countertop beside him.

Withdrawing a fresh bottle of Fire Whiskey, he broke the seal with a quick turn of his hand before the bottle was brought his lips, forgoing the glass entirely. As the burn of the brown liquor ran down his throat to pull in his belly his eyes shut tight.

“If this is nothing, I’d be scared to see you after something.”  
  
“It’s none of your damn business, Hermione!” Slamming the bottle down on the countertop, he turned on her. “You said you didn’t want to talk about our past, so don’t fucking push.”  
  
Hermione’s eyes widened as she visibly withdrew from him, shocked at his outburst. “This isn’t your past Sirius. It just happened!” she pushed back, head shaking as she moved past him, shoulder connecting with his in a rough passing.  
  
“I fucked up….again,” he snapped at her retreating form, following her out of the kitchen and into the living room, bottle in hand. “It’s my fucking fault he went on that suicide mission and I  gave away our plans.” Mumbling, he brought the bottle back up to his lips to take another drink.  
  
“Your fault? Sirius, Remus is a big boy. He made the decision to go all on his own.” She leaned against the back of his couch, her arms crossed over her bust, watching him wrinkle his nose before scoffing at her.

“Moony went because of me.” He hadn’t even realized his slip-up of using the nickname, gray eyes watching the firewhiskey swish around in the bottle as he swirled it. “Prongs made certain to remind me of that when I mentioned you. Called me an idiot, among other things.”  
  
“Mentioned me?”  
  
Looking up, the curtain of black bangs hung in his eyes. “I told him you went with me,” he began, pausing to suck on his front teeth in thought before continuing. His eyes dropped from hers to return to the bottle. “He asked if I was fucking you…..I didn’t have to answer, he already knew.” Lifting the bottle once more he took another drink, tipping his head back. Dropping the bottle to his side, his eyes remained on the ceiling, not wanting to look at Hermione. “Prongs’ always had a mean right hook.”

Hermione’s pulse quickened as she listened to him, shifting uncomfortably with each sentence. Her hands rose, pushing all ten fingers into her curls. “You are an idiot.” She looked up, biting her bottom lip before shaking her head, moving away from him towards the bedroom. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have ever slept with you.”  
  
Sirius nearly dropped the bottle at her words, his body frozen before he moved after her into his bedroom. “What?” Setting the bottle down on the top of the old wooden dresser that sat beside the door his eyes narrowed on the witch as she picked up her jeans. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She shook out the wrinkles in the denim before she slipped into the day old clothing, her fingers working the buttons closed quickly. “Sirius, I told you from the beginning that this shouldn’t happen.” Glancing up Sirius who stood in the doorway, her curls hung wildly about her face. His gaze was stuck on every movement she made, not daring to look away from her. “And now you’re fighting with your friends! Merlin, Sirius this isn’t worth it.”  
  
“I’ve had worse fights!” he began to defend himself, as if comparing the past altercations between the young men who acted more like siblings than best friends seemed to make the situation better. “He’s been sore since Remus and I called it quits last summer.”

Hermione froze, hands stuck on the top button her jeans as the words processed as though she was stuck in slow motion. Sirius and Remus? But they had never…. She knew them when they were older and… Gulping she looked up, the color gone from her cheeks. “Sirius, what did you just say?”

“I have fought with James before….?” His own confusion was present on his face, his words no longer harsh.

“No. After that.”  
  
“That Remus and I broke up last summer….” his voice trailed off, clearly not registering the complexity his words added to the situation until it hit him like a rogue bludger to the chest and his eyes went wide. “Oh… Shit no, Hermione no. It’s not like that! I like Remus, but not like that… not anymore. He’s a bloody beast in the sack, but there wasn’t anything there beyond the bedroom.”

Hermione’s head shook from side to side as she backed up, her right hand lifting to silence his hurried explanation. “Sirius, just stop.” Toeing her feet into her boots that were sitting beside the foot of his bed, she didn’t bother to lace them, instead moving to grab her wand from the nightstand.

He moved forward quickly, hands on her shoulders as he spun her around. “Hermione, stop! You can’t use my past relationship to fucking run away.” His brow furrowed in frustration, trying to read the witch who was held an arm’s length away.

“Sirius, you went on a mission to save your…. Your Remus, and decided that was the best time to fuck me?” Arms rose and were brought down on his forearms, breaking the connection they held on her shoulder and her body darted past his. “THEN, you fought with your other friend, because you didn’t have the decency to bloody lie to them about it.” Her words carried behind her as she moved out of the bedroom, stuffing her wand in her back pocket she reached for her sweater from the back of the couch, shrugging into the soft wool. “It’s like you don’t even fucking care! We, not you, WE fucked up and compromised this mission! And then acted like fucking dogs in heat afterwards.”

She felt sick to her stomach at the thought. The past three days could have been spent traveling to Germany to find their--his friend. Instead, they chose to ignore the larger issue and fuck each other into a stupor. This man had an effect on her no others did. He made her judgement cloudy and act recklessly. She couldn’t think clearly with him so physically close, and now she had to fix it. She had to find Remus, fix whatever sort of friendship was left between the two ex-lovers, and fucking kill Voldemort to top it all off.

“So that’s it? You’re fucking going to leave every time it gets hard?” He had followed her out of the bedroom, but stood more than an arm’s length away. If hurt, sadness and confusion could blend into one agonizing emotion, Sirius would have perfected the look it required right then. “You kiss me, and then disappear for three months. We spend the last couple days screwing each other until we are knackered, and now you’re leaving again. When will I see you next? Six months? A bloody fucking year?” Each word brought more fire, his hands balling into fists as his sides as his emotions began to rear up, like a dragon protecting its treasure.

“I didn’t screw you because you were there, Hermione. I wanted you!”

His words sliced through her personal wards with precision. Brown eyes lifted from the floor to look at him, watching him become impassioned with each word that spilled from his lips. She had never seen someone who exuded so much intensity with his words. Sure there was Harry, who could become quite motivational depending on the topic, but this was different. Sirius wasn’t just speaking the words, he was driving his feelings into each syllable.

“For Merlin’s sake, Hermione. You’re all I could fucking think about since February. I kept showing up to the meetings hoping you’d be there, just so I could catch a glimpse of you….when I saw you in Romania, it was like I couldn’t breathe. You were there! And not a figment of my imagination, despite what Wormtail said.” The last bit of his sentenced trailed off, his head shaking very slightly at the memory of his friend’s harassment. “I can’t have you just fucking walk out, not after this.” His hand lifted to the back of his head, smoothing down his black silken locks in nervous habit as his eyes pleaded with her. “Look, I’ll figure out Remus and James...but just don’t go.”  
  
It was her turn to feel overwhelmed. It wasn’t as if his confession about his feelings should have surprised her. She felt the pull of the intimacy in their time together long before he had her naked underneath him, but it scared her. Beyond the fact that it should absolutely not be happening, to have herself open up to someone again after having her heart broken was a lot harder a task than Sirius could ever imagine. When he moved towards her, his arms outstretched to pull her in, she stepped back like a skittish bird.  
  
“Sirius. I can’t do this right now...I need to think.”  
  
“Then think here! I’ll leave you alone.”  
  
“I can’t think when you’re around me! That’s how we got into this mess.”  
  
Taking two steps back, she maneuvered around the couch, away from him. Grabbing her messenger bag she pulled the worn canvas strap over her shoulder, careful not to trap her messy curls underneath as she turned away from him to face the front door to his flat. “Just...give me a moment, okay?”  
  
“Hermione….please.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she could see him visibly break. This is the Sirius she had seen before. So withdrawn, broken and just raw. She knew she couldn’t leave him like this, but his physical proximity made it impossible to get any rational thought out. She turned quickly and moved over to him. Her hands slid across his shaven cheeks, cupping his face as her mouth touched his in the softest of kisses, pausing her withdrawal as their noses touched. “I’ll be back...give me a couple hours, okay?” Pulling back before his hands could land upon her body she made a quick exit of the flat, shutting the heavy wooden door behind her with a soft snap.

She moved quickly down the pathway leading from his house, her bag slapping against her hip with each brisk stride she made. Once out of the flat, it felt like she could actually breathe, although her uneasiness did not subside. Her hands fisted the sides of her sweater, pulling the wool tight around her slender frame as she moved down the sidewalk towards the end of his street, knowing just around the corner was a small row of wizarding shops. Although she had yet to visit them, she remembered Sirius mentioning something about a Divination storefront that served tea in addition to telling your future.

As she turned the corner, passing a family that was out on an early evening stroll, she stumbled. The feeling hit her at once, the pull of time ripped from the center of her stomach out and within seconds she was harshly taken from 1979 and deposited back in 1999. The palms of her hands connected with the asphalt as she fell, not having braced herself for impact. Her messenger bag had spilled its contents on the street, wand fallen from her pocket upon impact. On her hands and knees, her ears began to ring, vaguely aware of her surroundings as she blinked the blurriness away. Looking up when she held a hand touch her shoulder, an elderly wizard was kneeling beside her.

“Good Godric, girl. You must be more careful where you Apparate. You nearly landed on me.” Plucking her wand from the ground, he held it out for her to take as he helped her up, hands brushing the knees of her pants in a fairly parental sort of gesture. “You quite alright?”  
  
Hermione’s hands shook as she held her wand, looking past the graying wizard to the street around her. “I’m fine….thank you. W-What year is it?” She knew the answer, but she was praying she was mistaken.

“1999. Are you sure you’re alright? I can have Marjorie Floo a physician.” He gestured to the house behind him, where on the front porch a small younger witch stood with a babe on her hip. She had been drawn outside due to the commotion Hermione caused.

Her eyes closed, only the beginning of his sentence was heard, as the rest of his words were drown out by the gut wrenching feeling of her heart breaking. She had told him she would be back. She told him just a couple hours!! Her hand rose, touching the chain around her neck and her eyes snapped open. “I’ll be fine!” Pushing past the elderly wizard, she moved quickly down the road, ignoring the yelling behind her as she pulled the chain to pull the Time-Turner from inside of her shirt. She needed to go back!! She couldn’t leave him like that for a second time.

As she rounded the corner, her fingers slipped across the outer ringers, feeling the intricate etchings in the metal slide beneath her fingers. Her eyes dropped to her hands, beginning to turn the outermost ring when her attention was suddenly caught by a familiar voice that had yelled from behind her. 

“Hermione Jean Granger!”

Gulping, she quickly tucked the forbidden object beneath her shirt before turning around. Several yards in front of her stood Kingsley, his wand held tightly at his hip and he was flanked by several other witches and wizards she knew to be Unspeakables. “Kings...what are you doing here?” Her voice was filled with forced innocence as stood before him, not making a move toward the Minister.


	10. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 6th, 1999 - The Ministry of Magic  - 13:00**

Hermione had been back in 1999 nearly a month and not a day went by that her mind was not full of thoughts on how she could get back to him. At first she told herself it was to explain what happened, to make sure he understood that she was not going away forever, but slowly the feelings congealed into truth. Hermione wanted to go back to be with him; she was falling for Sirius Black and despite everything that screamed that it was wrong, her body was quick to remind herself just how right it had felt. The connection they shared was beyond just young adult lust; when she was with him the pressures and reminders of the trauma she had been through seemed to fade. When she was with him, she was just a woman who enjoyed the company of a man, but a war hero trying to make things right.

She drifted through the days as if in a trance, going through the motions without ever truly being present. The few times she had run into her friends, they were quick to point out her Luna-like withdrawal into her thoughts that was so very uncharacteristically Hermione. She would brush off the comments, citing  poor sleep and long hours at work as the excuse, but they all knew something else was brewing beneath the surface of her mind. It did not take an advanced degree to know Hermione was scheming over something, for Harry and Ron were very familiar with the glint that would twinkle in her eyes while plans were hatched.

When Kingsley confronted her in the streets of Puddlemere he had confiscated the Time-Turner, and although she knew he had no proof, she sensed he was leery of the witch’s time in the past. She was questioned by the Unspeakables regarding why she appeared in England, as opposed to Romania, and once her oral report was cross-referenced with the written account that was delivered to Moody in 1979, she was cleared to return to work. What she had not realized when signing up for the mission, was Kingsley requested the Time-Turner to have a trace put on the jewelry. Anytime it was used, it would alert the Unspeakables of the location, which is how they were quick to find her return to present time.

Kingsley graciously allowed her to return to work in the Aurors office, or so she was told by her boss. She had not made enough progress in the past for the ambitious Minister to be satisfied, He had expected results by now and made this well known to those privy to the top secret mission. The only real change that the Unspeakables were able to track was the early death of Rosier, which saved a small handful of lives, both Muggle and Magical.

The first couple attempts to arrange a meeting between Hermione and the Minister were unsuccessful; his secretary kept his schedule full and there was no wiggle room for her to sneak in, even for the briefest of moments. After two weeks of being ignored, Hermione took to waiting outside his office, pacing the halls while she waited for him to appear.

Leaning against the cold stone wall her fingers tapped an impatient rhythm next to her. Since she was on a high priority assignment from the Minister, the Auror’s office did not bother assigning her to other details. Instead they expected her in for office duty every day while she waited for the word to return to 1979. This meant today Hermione was forced to wear a well tailored, but entirely uncomfortable set of gray business robes, with a sensible pair of black trousers and a button down. Brown eyes darted between Kingsley’s office door and down the hall, averting her gaze away when she could hear the door open, as if to appear not waiting for him, but rather reading the crumpled memo in her other hand.

Her stomach grumbled in protest as the lunch hour approached. She had expected to see Kingsley hours ago, when he would have been on his way into the office for the day, but being the Minister obviously came with perks. Like a private fireplace with access to the Floo network in your office. When the door in front of her opened, Hermione's heart skipped a beat as the familiar booming voice of Kingsley was heard talking to his secretary.

“Push back my 1:00pm. Let the MACUSA President know I will be available by 2:00pm.” Putting his cap on his bald head, he moved out of his office. When the door was shut, he turned towards the hallway. “Oh...Hermione. What a pleasant surprise.”

 _'Was he always a shit liar?’_ A forced smile was given, hands carefully folding the paper she held as she looked up to greet him. “Hello Kings...you’re quite a busy wizard, ya know?”  Pushing off the wall, she slipped the paper into her robe’s pockets casually. Glancing up and down the hall to make sure that no one awas within earshot, she moved a half of step closer to the older wizard. “You’d think a girl on a _special assignment_ might have a little sway around her.” Her voice was soft, but the impact of her words was definitely felt.

Kingsley’s smile dropped, dark eyes glued to her face. “Miss Granger,” he clucked, reaching out to rest his hand against her arm as if to encourage her to stop the talk of the assignment he had set her on before he began to guide her down the hallway. “Perhaps you can set some time later this week?”  
  
“No.” Pulling her arm from his grasp, she stopped in the middle of the hallway, head shaking her curls loose from the messy bun at the base of her neck. “You’re making time for me now. You’ve avoided me enough.” Her arms crossed over her bust, lips pursing together as she waited for his next move.

Glancing up and down the hallway, the wizard gave an exasperated sigh before he nodded. His hand was swept in front of his body, as if to say ‘lead the way’. Taking the gesture for acceptance, Hermione reached out and wrapped her hand around his left arm and she began to guide the Minister down the long hallway. Turning to the closest conference room, she pulled the door open, waiting for him to enter before following.

“Your status as my friend is allowing you many liberties right now, Hermione. If you were anyone else, I would not offer the same allowances.”  
  
“To be quite frank, Kingsley, _your status as my acquaintance_ is the only reason I haven’t fucking blasted a hole into your office.”  
  
Frowning, the older wizard leaned back on the table, hands bracing against the wooden surface beneath him as he watched Hermione come to stand before him. No longer calm and collected, she looked as if she had a bone to pick.  
  
“We found him, Kings… We found Remus, and I know errors were made, but we had him in our sights and you pulled me out. This was the first chance I had at making a real change.” She began to pace in front of the door, blocking his exit as she delivered her well-rehearsed speech. “I need to go back. You **owe** me that. I’ve put my life on hold, and I accepted the fact that my mission in the past will cause the present?...No, the future to change! You need to send me back to help get Remus home. When we do...I can take down some of the wizards holding him. I’ll do what I have to make sure these pieces of sh--,” Hermione paused when she noticed Kingsley about to cut her off. Gritting her teeth, a deep breath was taken before she continued. “The Death Eaters can’t do more harm.”  
  
The stoic face of the Minister did not crack. Instead he let the silence hang in the air for half a minute, letting Hermione stew in her thoughts. Her mind raced; what the hell was he waiting for? Shifting comfortably before him from left to right hip, her lips parted as a deep breath was taken in preparation to drive her point home. Clearly she had more convincing to do than she originally thought. Suddenly his hand lifted towards her in the universal sign of ‘stop’. Closing her open mouth, Hermione pursed her lips, frowning at the aging wizard.

“Let me be clear in stating that I do not owe you anything.” Dropping his hand from in front of him, his fingers laced together, resting in the center of his hips. “You were assigned a mission based on skill. This is a job, Hermione, and you have proved that you are unable to bring the results we were looking for. I---”

“No results? Moody and I took out Rosier years before his original death date! I saved lives! This  is bull--”  
  
“Miss Granger!” His words were crisp, commanding her attention as his calm demeanor began to waiver. “You are not speaking with a friend, but rather the highest ranking official in all of the British Ministry of Magic. It would behoove you to remember your place.”  
  
She had once prided herself on befriending most of the adult Order during the war. She would often be privy to intel before Harry and Ron due to the respect they all held for the ‘brightest witch of her age’. After the war The Golden Trio’s faults that were explained away by being young and naive were no longer forgiven as easily as they had been in youth. Her passion, which had once been considered her greatest trait, had begun to plague her as an adult. Wincing at his harsh tone, Hermione cast her eyes away from a man she used to think of as on her team. Although, the question of whose team she was on was one she did not know the answer to anymore.

Was she fighting to return to help the Order, or was she fighting to return to the man she could no longer deny her feelings for? She told herself they were one in the same, but deep down she knew if Kingsley was presented with the facts regarding all of her time in the past, he would pull her from the mission faster than she could say ‘Time-Turner’.

She could feel his eyes bore into the side of her face as if she were under a heat ray. He was waiting for her to break, to show more emotion than she already had. Biting her bottom lip, her hands were thrust into her robes, hidden as they curled into little fists.

“Despite the misgivings I have about sending you back, I will permit you to return.”

Hermione’s eyes closed. Her heart, thumping in her chest due to nervousness, began to ache at the realization that her goal was reached. She would be returning, but how would he react to seeing her? Would he be upset? Would he have moved on? She would not blame him for his anger, but she felt as if she had to try. She owed an explanation to Sirius, and would tell him the truth, at least as much of the truth as she could without destroying the past.

“However, should you return to the present with no action taken, my hand will be forced to choose another Auror to complete the mission. Is this clear?”  
  
Hermione nodded, turning to face Kingsley. “Crystal.” As he began to move past her towards the exit, her hand shot out to touch his arm, pausing his movement temporarily. “I need more time…. Two weeks.”

“You will be allowed one week. I suggest you make better use of your time.” He moved past her briskly, breaking her hold on his arm roughly before his shoulder grazed hers as he passed. When he reached the door behind her, he paused before his exit, allowing himself a moment before he continued, his back facing her still. “You will leave tonight. Do not disappointment me again, Hermione.”  
  
Not waiting for a response, the door was shut behind Kingsley with a snap. The sound echoed in her ears as she fell back against the desk. The weight of his words was felt immediately. Should she go back and fail again, she would never be allowed to see Sirius. Shaky hands rose to press the pads of her palms against her eyes as she let emotions she had bottled up  loose. She should feel better knowing she would be going back, but instead of elation, she was left with worry. She would see Sirius again tonight, and she had to tell him. She had to make him understand, but would he forgive her? Would he trust her enough to believe the truth?

* * *

**June 6th, 1979 - Godric’s Hollow - 14:00**

When the hours turned to days after Hermione left requesting some time to collect her thoughts, Sirius told himself she would return, she just needed time to process everything. When the days turned to weeks, he lost his faith. She had made her choice, and clearly her choice was to not be with him.  
  
Once his interpretation of her actions had been decided, he spent his time dodging Order meetings, pub-hopping and sleeping on James’s couch when he was too drunk to Apparate home. The friends had made up shortly after their altercation, as they often did, but it came with the condition of James being involved in returning Remus to England.

The mornings that Sirius did wake up on the lumpy couch in Godric’s Hollow, he was often awoken by Lily. The witch had taken it upon herself to mother Sirius as he fought his demons, often being his shoulder to cry on. She had been the only one left would he would still talk about Hermione with.

Stretching out in the midday sun, Sirius lifted his arms above his head. Fists pointed towards one wall, while toes reached for the other as sleep began to shake away from the disheveled wizard. He’d been out at the Leaky with Wormtail last night, who was assigned to ‘Puppy Watch’ as the friends referred to it. The goal was to keep Sirius out of trouble, and while Peter was successful for a small portion of the night, Sirius quickly drank his friend under the table.

As his eyes began to crack open, a small scoff was heard from across the room before a faded throw pillow connected with his middle. All of the air escaped his lungs upon impact, and Sirius rolled onto his side, coughing as his arms curled around his midsection.  
  
“Glad to see you’re finally up,” Lily said from her spot across the room in a large armchair. A book was draped facedown on the arm of the chair marking her spot in the book. She had been waiting for him to wake, as she did every time he stayed the night.

Lifting his head toward the redhead, gray eyes twinkled in amusement towards her. It was no wonder that James riled up his girlfriend so often, for when Lily Evans was upset you would see the passion pour out of every bit of her being. Her loyalty to their group of friends was clear, but this also came with the curse of expecting them to ‘do better’ as she often put it. “Be careful Lils. If James hears you watch me when I sleep, he might get jealous.”  
  
With a snort, Lily crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed Sirius. “I watch you because I don’t want puke all over my floor again.”

Pushing up off the couch, Sirius put his feet against the floor, steadying himself to recline back against the couch as he adjusted his achy frame. “That was months ago, give a wizard a little bit of credit. I can stomach my liquor better now.” When another throw pillow was sent flying across the room, Sirius reached out to catch it, playfully wagging his finger at his friend.

Rolling her eyes, Lily turned her head away from him, tongue pressing against her teeth under her closed lips in thought. “Sirius, I know you said that this,” looking back to him, her hand went out to gesture to him before returning to her bicep. “Isn’t about how things ended with her, but I’m having a hard time believing you.”  
  
Sirius bristled, raising from the couch to grab his shirt off the coffee table before him and tug it over his head. He really didn’t want to engage her on this topic again. She knew more than others, but that did not mean he would divulge more to her.  

“Sirius, stop avoiding this conversation.” Moving from the chair she crossed the room to her friend, small freckled hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, pausing his distracting motions to get him to focus on her. When green and gray eyes finally connected again, she allowed herself to continue. “What if she does come back? Do you want her to see you like this? You’re a bit of a mess.”  
  
“This isn’t about her. She made her choice, I’m just….” Eyes dropped away from Lily’s towards the floor. Shifting uncomfortable under the weight of her stare, he continued, but refused to make eye contact. “I just needed a break from it all. Moony, the war, all the shit just caught up.” His eyes closed when he felt her hand shift to tip his chin up so he would be forced to look at her once more.

“I’m not going to say those don’t factor in, but you were staying afloat before you met her.” Her voice was soft, thumb and index finger holding his chin in place until his eyes opened once more and she smirked. “Sirius, you might be able to fool the others, but you can’t fool me. Stop trying to fix whatever’s wrong with you with Fire Whiskey, and start doing something about it. This isn’t the same man I knew at Hogwarts. Where did that stupidly brave lion go? All I see is a cub.”  
  
“Okay...okay.” His hands lifted in defence as he took half a step back to break the hold she had on his chin, wanting to pull himself out of her motherly gaze. “I’ll stop with the Fire Whiskey, but if you take away beer, we might have a problem.” Pointing a finger at her in mock threat, his eyes narrowed. “I’ll duel a girl, even if you are my best-mate’s girl.”

Unable to contain her laughter, she swatted at his pointed finger, narrowly missing connecting with his hand. “And you’d lose!” she called to his retreating form as he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack, pulling a pack of cigarettes out.

After tucking the withdrawn cigarette behind his ear, he across the room towards the kitchen, pressing a soft kiss into Lily’s cheek as he passed her while she folded the blanket he had used the night before. “You’re too good for us, Lils. You know that, right?” He often told her this, especially after the tough love she administered to their makeshift family.

“Someone’s got to keep you lot out of Azkaban,” she joked, winking to her friend before reaching up to tug at a lock of his hair as he moved away from her. Scooping up the blanket and pillow, Lily moved down the hall to put them away. When she disappeared Sirius moved into the kitchen, heading for the back door of their home.

Stepping out into the fresh air, the cigarette was pulled from behind his ear and put between his lips. His fingers rubbed the end of the stick and with a bit of wandless magic, a flame appeared at the end. Inhaling in quick breaths, he ignited the cigarette before blowing the flame away to leave the smoldering embers in its place. Bare feet padded across the warmed stone patio to the steps that let down to their small yard. Moving down a level, he sat in the middle of the stairs. Elbows to knees, he surveyed the homes around him.

The distant sound of children playing a couple streets over could be faintly heard over the soft summer breeze that carried warm air through the village. He knew she was right. His binge drinking, and avoidance of his home was absolutely about her. He had felt a connection with Hermione that he hadn’t experienced before. The combination of her sudden departure (again!) and not knowing when his friend would come home was almost too much. He had to numb the ache, and what better way than the bottle?

He heard the door behind him open, figuring Lily would be coming outside to join him, he scooted over from the middle of the porch steps. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave the butt in the yard. I know about the can on the side of the house,” he said before taking a deep drag off the cigarette, turning towards the sound of footsteps headed his way. Instead of Lily, he was greeted by the sight of James.

Messy hair, hazel eyes and a stupid look on his face that told Sirius that James was up to no good. A finger was placed against his lips before he lifted to show Sirius he’d nicked one of his cigarettes. Moving to sit beside his friend, he placed the cigarette between his lips before leaning close to his friend to accept a light.  
  
“You’re a brave man, Potter,” Sirius joked under his breath as his fingers lit the small flame before he returned his elbows to his knees, hand lazily bringing his own cigarette back to his lips before his shoulder was nudged by his friend.

“She’ll forgive me. She always does,” James replied with a soft laugh, leaning opposite of his friend, reclining back on his stone patio as he crossed his legs in front of him at the ankle. “Speaking of forgiveness,” he began flicking his cigarette ash away from his reclined body, “Alastor just confirmed they found Moony.” Hazel eyes didn’t have to leave the focus they held on the fence line before him to know Sirius was suddenly very interested in what his friend had to say. “We’re leaving in two days….You coming?”  
  
“You couldn’t make me stay.”

Laughing at his words, James nodded in understanding. Moony had been gone for too long, and perhaps the only people that would be able to help pull him out of whatever state he was in were Sirius and himself. The center of his bottom lip bitten before he looked over to Sirius, his hesitation evident. “You should probably know something.”

Sirius gulped and nodded towards James to continue as the cigarette between his fingers was twisted nervously.  
  
“So...uhh.” James hands rose to adjust his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he looked away from Sirius, back towards the back door to make sure Lily wasn’t coming to check on them, before he brought the cigarette to his lips before a deep drag was taken. “Hermione’s coming back. Moody mentioned needing to collect her before we leave because she has the maps.” The words left his mouth along with the vapors from the smoke. Mixing together, they visibly hung in the air between the two men.

Sirius’s stomach twisted, churning at the thought of coming face to face with her after their last time spent together. A mixture of anger, hurt, frustration and longing bubbled below his heart. “Doesn’t matter.” Flicking the cigarette out in the lawn he pushed himself up from the deck. He’d take the scolding from Lily later. “She’s doing a job, right? Just like we are.” His hand went out as a force smile fell over his lips, helping his friend stand beside him. “Except, when we come home we’ll be whole again.”

Hazel eyes tried to see past the walls Sirius put up, but James was easily fooled. If he was anything, he was trusting and loyal, to a fault at times. “Right. Moony’s coming home,” he reaffirmed before placing the cigarette between his lips, his arm looping over Sirius’s shoulders in a playful side hug.

As the pair stood in silent celebration of their upcoming reunion, the back door was opened before James had time to react. Lily stood before them, wand withdrawn floating the trash bag from the kitchen before her when her eyes landed upon that cigarette in James’s lips. Her jaw dropped in surprise before her face took a much harsher tone. Green eyes narrowed as her wand was flicked towards her boyfriend, sending the white bag crashing into his chest. Upon impact the bag split at the seams, a small explosion sent the trash up into the air landing about their small yard. “James Henry Potter. You told me you were done smoking!” Hands were placed upon her hips as her lips thinned into a line.

All Sirius could do was laugh as his friend stumbled under the impact of his girlfriend’s gaze. Reaching up, he pulled some pieces of trash from his long hair, reaching over to place it in the torn bits of bag left in James’s arms. “I think I’ll head home, Mate. Sounds like you might need my couch tonight,” he chuckled softly to his friend, moving across the patio slowly towards the backdoor. “I told him he shouldn’t Lils. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen.” Gray eyes feigned innocence well as he slipped beside the redhead. “He even threw a cigarette butt in the lawn.” Whispering the last bit, he watched Lily’s eyes widen before he looked over to James, who was beginning to try to explain away him being caught red-handed.

Quickly moving to the living room, bare feet were slipped into his mahogany dragonhide boots. Not bothering to lace them, he moved towards the door. Jacket and wand were grabbed on his path out of their home as the sounds of the argument from the backyard could be heard. Moving down the walkway from the house, Sirius slipped into his leather jacket before reaching the fenceline that contained their small yard. Hopping over the iron half door, he moved down the sideway.

All thoughts of Hermione were tightly compacted and compartmentalized in the back of his mind. Instead he allowed himself to think of his friend, and how getting him back home would make their group whole again. Before his departure, Sirius and Remus had shared the small flat in Puddlemere. Without Moony around to pick up and keep order, the place rarely felt like home. Sirius hoped that Remus would return to occupy the bedroom that had remained untouched for nearly a year, but understood if he needed space to adjust to the new sort of friendship the pair would have post-relationship.

Reaching the Apparition point at the end of the road, Sirius glanced around, taking in his surroundings as his training with the Order had taught him to before he allowed himself to think of Puddlemere. He thought of the street before his flat: its cobblestone road, the red brick fencing and dirty old houses. His eyes closed as the thoughts of his neighborhood in conjunction of the spell caused the hairs on his arms stand as the feeling of being pulled from the ground. With a soft crack, he landed just before his home in the middle of the street.

Crossing the road towards his house, Sirius waved a friendly hello to a neighbor as he approached his front door. Lowering the wards he had set earlier Sirius moved into the messy apartment. As he leaned back against the front door gray eyes surveyed the wreckage.

Deciding that he should prepare for James’s potential arrival, Sirius moved into the kitchen, grabbing two trash bags from under the sink. With a quick wave of his wand the trash that was scattered around the flat began to float into the bags. Once full, they were neatly tied before left to rest against the wall near the door. Moving to the couch, Sirius toed off his boots and reclined on the couch, his fingers lacing behind his head. He was sure James would be by soon trying to avoid the wrath of a fiery redheaded witch. As he chuckled at the thought, the sound of a knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Damn, Prongs. You didn’t last long,” he called out, laughing as he moved to the front door. Pulling the heavy wooden door open, gray eyes glittered with laughter. “Are you here for th---” The smile plastered wide across his face was instantly washed off as his eyes landed on a much smaller figure than that of his friend. 

“Hi Sirius.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Nervously she shifted from hip to hip under his stare. “Can uh… can I come in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me too much for how this chapter ends, I will try and post the next chapter soon! We're coming up on an important part of this story, so it might take me a bit longer to post than it has been, so bare with me while I triple check to everything. :) And most readers will be excited to know a very familiar werewolf is going to make an appearance soon!
> 
> I do have some exciting news. Right the First time was nominated for 'Best Time Travel' in the Shrieking Shack Society's Mischief Managed Awards 2018! I am just so glad to share this story with you all and happy to know some people truly love what I am writing. <3 I would highly suggest checking out the other nominees within all categories of The Mischief Managed Awards, as there is some amazing work being done in all categories!! I will post the link to the voting shortly, so hang time. For those who can't wait, Look up 'The Shrieking Shack Society' on facebook and join the Marauder Madness we all are afflicted with. ;P


	11. Shared Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 6th, 1979 - Tutshill - 16:00**

* * *

 

Hermione had met the Unspeakables outside of Salisbury as agreed at the abandoned Muggle farmstead. The sun was still high in the summer sky, but the evening hour provided a bit of protection against wandering eyes as most Wizards and Muggles would not wander down the country roads at this hour. She barely registered the words spoken to her the moment the box containing the Time-Turner was pulled from a bag. Her Time-Turner, as she had begun to think of it, was so close. Her way back to him was within her grasp. 

“Auror Granger, did you hear me?”   
  
Hermione's eyes drew instantly away from the black box to the graying wizard before her. “I’m sorry.” A half smile was given to the irritable man in apology. Reaching up, fingers tucked a stray curl behind her ear before her hand came to rest on the strap of her messenger bag, which was slung across her torso.    
  
With a heavy huff, the wizard shook his head at the distracted witch, muttering under his breath about how much of a bad idea he believed this to be as he opened the folder in his hands. “I said this contains the maps you will need to find the Castle. Our records show Remus was held in the Selwyn Castle by various Death Eaters. By our best guesses, you will see Antonin Dolohov, Igor Karkaroff, and Corban Yaxley. Our international travel records can most certainly place them in Germany during this time. It is unclear if any German wizards were swayed to assist Voldemort at that time.” He spoke crisp and clear, not hesitating in his delivery. Holding the blue folder towards Hermione, his brow raised in a silent question of ‘do you understand?’

Nodding her head as her hand extended, she took the folder from him. “Got it. Find Alastor, and get to Germany.” Her eyes dropped from the wizard to her messenger bag as she unzipped the top to tuck the folders safely away inside. Her attention was brought back up to the Unspeakable before her when she felt the cold metal of the chain slide around her neck.

As the Time-Turner was placed around her neck, she felt the gravity of her plan finally sink in. Kingsley and the Unspeakables told her one week, but Hermione did not intend to follow their instructions. After sliding the zipper of her messenger bag shut, both hands rose to grasp the heavy metal Time-Turner that sat on the middle of her chest. Gulping as her eyes dropped to the familiar metal, fingertips ran across the outer rings. Without waiting for further instruction, she began the motions of her Time-Travel, twisting the three of the four sets of outer rings to set her destination. When she came to the fourth ring, the innermost ring, her palms began to shake. For one week, she would need just one third rotation. Her calculations were right, one rotation round should grant her one month. With a quick push of her fingers, her eyes drifted up to the group of Unspeakables who watched her. The last she saw was the irritable wizard yelling and reaching for her before the world blurred, and time began to rewind.

Landing in the field, she did not stumble this time, nor did she feel sick. Instead her heart raced with exhilaration of her actions. In roughly four weeks time, she would have to return to face the consequences of her actions, but perhaps by then things would change. Perhaps there would be no Kingsley to report to. Pulling the Time-Turner from her chest, she weighed the jewelry in her palm as her eyes watched the deep purple sit, as if frozen in the top of the hour glass. It would begin to move, but the progression would be slow due to the length of her journey. When the first grain of sand tumbled to the empty side of the small glass, she let out a soft breath. Curling her fingers around the still-warmed metal she tucked it safely inside her shirt, letting the pendant rest between the swells of her breasts.

Glancing around her, Hermione chewed her bottom lip. She was supposed to meet Moody at the safe house outside Salisbury, but the draw to go somewhere else was much greater. Looking down at her attire, she half-debated changing into something less 1999. A pair of low-cut blue jeans were worn, which flared slightly at her ankles, black Converse sneakers and a red short sleeved henley. Although this outfit would not turn heads in her time, the style and fitting of her jeans and top would definitely make her stand out in 1979. 

Perhaps this would help her case? Or maybe he would just think she’d gone mad. Shaking her thoughts of changing away, a deep breath was taken and her eyes closed. Fingers curled around the vinewood wand to stop her trembling as she allowed herself to think of the small wizarding village she was taken from a month earlier.

With a soft pop, Hermione was down the road from Sirius’s flat. Outside the Divination shop that was her destination earlier, she moved quickly, almost running as sneakered feet carried her down the cobblestone road towards the end of the road. As she reached his front gate, her courage began to wane. Would he be glad to see her? Fuck, would he even be home? 

Sweaty palms took turns rubbing against her hips before she placed her wand inside her back pocket as she walked up to front door. The time for second thoughts was hours ago when she had decided to take her fate into her own hands and come back for much longer than directed. Teeth bit into the side of her bottom lip as her hand went up to rap against the door.

As she heard his heavy footsteps come closer to the door, her heart quickened with anticipation. The sound of his voice carried through the heavy wood of his front door and her stomach fluttered. 

“Damn, Prongs. You didn’t last long.”

She could hear laughter and it made her smile. Well at least he had been happy during their time apart, right? As the front door opened, she took half a step back, standing just before his weathered welcome mat. Brown eyes locked onto gray and it felt like all of the air in her lungs was sucked out. That electricity she had tried to deny between them was back, the burn in her belly and flutter beneath her ribs began. 

“Are you here for th---” 

When his words cut off as he registered her on his doorstep, her hand went up to let her fingers tuck her curls behind her ear nervously. “Hi Sirius.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Nervously she shifted from hip to hip under his stare. “Can uh… can I come in?” 

His eyes danced across her face, and down the front of her body, as if verifying her existence. Her hand rose, thumbnail sliding between her teeth as she chewed it anxiously waiting for him to do or say something. It felt like hours had passed under his stare, and when he made no move towards her or voiced whatever he held behind those gray eyes, she reached out, fingers touching his wrist gently as she spoke his name.

When their skin connected, she felt that fire that had begun to burn in her stomach at the sight of him swell and consume her soul. This is where she was meant to be. Not stuck in 1999 where heartache and loneliness resided, but here, in the past with him. Sirius obviously felt the connection, for as her fingers touched his wrist, his eyes instantly went to her hand that was near his. When he looked back up to her eyes, the animal she had met in Romania was before her once more. 

Gasping at the flash of feral beast in his eyes, Hermione pulled her hand back from his, fingers sliding off of his skin as she took half a step back to put more space between them. Unlike in Romania, she was not sure she could handle the animal this time. For it was not just lust she could see in his storming behind his eyes, she could see the hurt, the betrayal and the anger all mixing together to swirl like campfire smoke beneath his thick black eyelashes. In any other circumstance, it would leave her breathless in want, but knowing she caused these feelings made her heart ache more.

“Please. I need to explain.” Her voice was soft, not wanting to spook him. She did not allow herself to reach out for him a second time, knowing the contact sparked something inside both of them did not quite understand. Licking her bottom lip, her eyes dropped from his and she looked at the toes of her shoes as she nudged the faded welcome mat in his entryway.   
  
Sirius did not bother with a verbal response. Instead he turned from the door, letting it hang open in an unspoken invitation. It wasn’t until she was across the threshold of his flat and the door was shut until he allowed himself to speak. He had moved to stand before the back of his couch, hands bracing themselves on the furniture, his head hung low and she could see the lean muscles in his back flex with tension in his stance. “What the fuck do you want?”   
  
Gulping she leaned back on the door, her hands moving up to curl around the band of her canvas strap of her messenger bag at the center of her chest, treating the material as a lifevest that would keep her afloat while she weathered the storm that Sirius was creating in his flat. “I didn’t mean to leave.” Her voice broke through the eerie silence of the room, imploring him to believe her.

“Didn’t mean to leave? No one kicked you out, and you made the choice to not bloody come back!!” he returned, his words slicing through the space between them. Hermione’s eyes flicked from the back of his head to his hands, which had curled around the top of the couch in large fists. 

“I didn’t have a choice, Sirius-” 

“Do you think I’m an idiot Hermione?!” Growling he turned around to face her. The storm brewing behind his eyes was in full force, causing her breath to catch in her throat before a reply could be made. “It really shouldn’t fucking bother me. I’ve done the same to others before, but fuck...I thought I explained that I wanted more. I thought you felt it too.” Shaking his head, his fisted hands went to his face to flatten and rub against the stubbled skin of his cheeks, trying to calm down the rising emotions that were thrashing to the surface in an angry tide.

“There is so much you don’t know, but if you give me a chance I can explain!” Hermione said quickly as her trembling hand went to the chain around her neck, beginning to withdraw the Time-Turner from inside her top.

“Explain what? That you fucking used me? That I was nothing more than a warm body to fuck while you dealt with whatever is bothering you?” he snapped at her before kicking the table next to him, sending the wooden furniture against the opposite wall from him. 

The crash of the table caused her to jump, hand halting on the chain as she watched him pace angrily in front of her. “STOP! Just fucking stop and LISTEN to me!” she yelled, as her timidness turned to anger at his actions. “I didn’t use you. I don’t know how I feel about you, Sirius, and can you honestly expect me to know anything beyond I want to be here? To see you? I’ve fucking put my job at risk. I disobeyed an order from the Ministry and might be facing time in Azkaban when I go home just so I could see you and try to fix this!” The magic around the pair swirled, causing the door and windows to rattle in response to their heated conversation. “I’m not from here Sirius! I’m not working for another Ministry, I’m….” Her brow furrowed as her lips set in a thin line, causing her forehead to wrinkle into three lines as she tried to find the best way to explain everything.   


Sirius stopped his pacing in front of the couch as her sudden outpour. He now stood still, his expression blank, not betraying the confusion that had begun to overtake the anger. As he calmed, his external magic that had been combining with hers to rattle his flat faded.

“January wasn’t the first time we have met, Sirius,” she began, her body leaning back against the front door, using the hard wood to provide her the grounding she needed to continue. “I’ve known you since I was thirteen. And the reason you don’t remember me is because you were thirty-four. I’ve been sent back in time by the Ministry of Magic on a special assignment to kill Voldemort before….” Her voice trailed off, eyes leaving his as she looked away, not sure if she should continue.

“Before,” Sirius croaked as he did little to hide the uncertainty he felt.  Gray eyes stayed locked on Hermione, watching her fumble with the chain around her neck before a pendant was withdrawn. He could not make its shape out from across the room, but it did not take close inspection to determine it was magically made.

“Before Voldemort kills James and Lily.” She winced at her words, and only looked up when she felt the energy in the room suddenly turn protective. “Sirius, before you say anything, please let me explain! Give me that before you toss me out.” Looking up, her bottom lip was licked and she moved off the door towards him, her fist still cured around the Time-Turner, as if holding it would keep the secrets she was about to divulge less of an act of treason to her Minister.

Hermione spent the next thirty minutes explaining what she could to Sirius. She told him of how the first War ended with the deaths of James and Lily Potter due to the prophecy that Voldemort undoubtedly already knew about. She told him of his godson, who was not even yet conceived, and of Sirius’s twelve years in Azkaban. She spoke of her connection to Harry, their misadventures at Hogwarts and the meeting between the Golden Trio, Sirius and Remus in the Shrieking Shack which was still 14 years away. She spoke of the death of Dumbledore, Remus and painfully, his own demise. By the time Hermione finally revealed the Time-Turner to Sirius and explained how it took her back to 1999 each time she disappeared, her cheeks were blotchy red and wet from the tears that fell despite her attempts to remain composed.

The pair had sunk to the floor side by side, their backs pressed against the couch. Hermione had removed the Time-Turner from around her neck and held the object out towards Sirius for him to inspect. “When I said there couldn’t be an us….it was because I know what my past held. Sirius, I wasn’t supposed to come back and fall for you. I was supposed to come back and fix this so you all could be there when I return.” Her hand trembled in the air between their bodies; her words irritated her throat that was raw from her crying. 

Sirius sat next to Hermione, his own tears silently caressing the skin of his cheeks as he listened to her pour out the confessions of the future that would happen without intervention. When she had held out the Time-Turner towards him, gray eyes looked at the object fearfully. How could something so small and beautiful be so cruel? Reaching out, his rough fingers slowly curled her hand around the Time-Turner, not daring the touch the cold metal himself. His eyes stayed on their hands, letting the last remaining tears fall without abandon. As the droplets of salty tears landed on the delicate skin of her wrist, Hermione let out a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry Sirius. I’m here to--I’m here to fix it. I will make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Slowly she pulled her hand from his, returning the Time-Turner around her neck before hiding it beneath her shirt.

“We,” Sirius corrected, lifting his reddened eyes to hers. His voice paused her movements, and she looked back up to him. When brown met gray it felt as if all the air was suddenly sucked from the room. The magic that lingered between the two seemed to sizzle with promise as his hand rose to brush across her wet cheek, using the back of his rough fingers to stroke her cheek. “We will make sure it doesn’t happen,” he finished his sentence from earlier, his voice full of promise and reverence for the woman he had just begun to know.

Hermione nodded, her eyes closing involuntarily as she turned her head into his hand, seeking the comfort she had been denied for so long. She heard him move, and felt his hand slide from her cheek to wrap around her frame. Pulling the small witch into his lap, Sirius enveloped her in his arms. “This burden is not yours alone, Hermione.….I will make sure I am waiting for you on the other side when this is done.” His voice was a low, breathy whisper against her ear. 

The softness of the skin of his lips could be felt against the shell of her ear and as the meaning of the words sunk in, Hermione let out a soft cry as she released the tension she’d let build up since her fifth year at Hogwarts. She was always the strong one, the one to keep their group together and the one to keep their mission on course during the thick of the battle, but here she was not expected to take the weight of this task alone. Sirius stepped up without hesitation. He believed her, and wanted to take the millstone that hung around her neck and share the weight of her task. Hermione’s fists curled into his shirt as her face buried in the crook of his neck.

Together they sat intertwined on the floor in Sirius’s living room and wept. They cried for the past, and the future, the loss of lives, but also the loss of innocence and specifically they cried for each other. Sirius ran his hand across her back, two fingers stroked the length of her spine to calm her down as they embraced. His cheek brushed against hers as his other hand lifted her face to his, their noises brushing against one another as his hand moved from her chin to brush her hair behind her ear. “Hermione,” husky voice was barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against hers with each word. “You feel this too, don’t you?” When she nodded a reply to his question, his fingers wound through her hair at the side of her hair, letting the wild curls tangle beneath his fingers. “We’ll fight for it. We’ll fight for each other because I’m not ready to lose you.”

No verbal reply was needed; instead Hermione leaned forward to close the millimeter gap between their lips. Soft lips parted as his tongue requested entrance to her mouth, seeking to brush against hers. Hermione's hand rose to cup Sirius’s wet cheeks as their kiss deepened. Instead of the frenzied passion from last time, it was slow, savoring the moment that they knew could be one of their last. Hermione did not tell him how long she had left with him, but Sirius would be damned if he did not spend every minute learning what he could about her. 

Shifting beneath her body, Sirius gently reclined his curly headed witch against the carpeted floor. Rough hands moved down her body, rubbing against her curves through the Muggle clothing she wore. As his mouth broke away from their kiss, a breathy whimper left her throat. “Hermione.” His voice beckoned her brown eyes open and Hermione looked up to him. The sight before him nearly made his groan, cheeks flushed and a halo of brown curls, He was certain she was the enchantress Nimue sent back to bring him to his knees. “We don’t have to,” he began, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. 

Cutting his words off, Hermione leaned forward to capture his lips once more in a kiss, her tongue gliding across his as her body arched off the floor and she removed her top herself. When the kiss broke to allow her shirt to slip off over her heard, Sirius discarded his own. Instead of returning his lips to hers, he pressed kissed across her wet cheeks, down her jawline and slowly across the length of her neck. Rough fingertips ran across the soft plains of her belly and up. Touching the soft lace fabric of her bralette, he kneaded her breast softly through the flimsy cups. 

Hermione arched off the floor into his hand, trying to push more of herself against him as her fingers threaded through his silken locks. Within minutes he stripped of her clothing, using a combination of magic and fast reflexes as he worked down her body, taking the time to worship every inch of skin he came across. His mouth rested upon her stomach, just inches away from her navel.

As his hot breath tickled across her abdomen, his fingers ran up the length of her legs from her feet. Dancing across her knees, they moved to the inside of her thighs, slowly guiding her thighs open for his body to slide between. His tongue dipped into her navel, tasting her skin as he moved lower down her body.

Hermione’s body vibrated under his ministrations, feet pressing flat against the floor as his index fingers hooked behind her knees and lifted them up before pushing her legs open to accommodate his presence between her legs. When her mind caught up to what his intention was, her hands resting on her belly trembled in anticipation. His name was on her lips in a breathy need of a whimper. Sirius’s gray eyes looked up as he reached his goal of the apex of her thighs, his hands resting on each hip bone as he leaned in to gently sweep the tip of his tongue through her folds.

He wanted to watch her as he tasted her and brought her to release, but as her essence was collected upon the tip of his tongue, his eyes shut tight. Groaning against her damp curls, the vibration caused Hermione’s breath to hitch in response. No longer wanting to take his time with tasting her, his mouth covered her mons, tongue sliding between her labia as he licked her from her aching entrance to her hardened clit. 

Hermione’s hands upon her stomach slipped into his hair, curling into the silken locks to keep him from straying too far from her pleasure center as her legs wrapped over his shoulders, feet hooking under his armpits. His name was moaned in a soft chant of encouragement as he sought to bring her over the edge, and as much as Hermione would have enjoyed succumbing to the pleasure, she did not want to do so without him buried deep inside her. 

“Sirius...Si-Sirius, please.” Her right hand slipped, pressing against his forehead to dislodge the suction he had begun upon her clit as his tongue flicked the nub in a consistent rhythm. “I need you,” she gasped, head lifting off the floor to look down at the wizard.

That was something Sirius did not need to be told twice. Snaking his body up the witch, his jeans and boxers were removed before he settled between her parted thighs, mouth capturing hers in a slow, hungry kiss. She could taste herself upon his tongue, the musky evidence of her need for him sliding across her tongue as her hands wound around his neck, crushing her breasts against his chest.

Positioning his hardened cock as her entrance he pressed his hips forward, slowly easing his length into her warm center. Hermione’s legs wound around his waist, holding him impossibly close as the pair began to rock against one another, setting a slow pace that allowed them to kiss and cry into each others’ mouth each time his cock pressed against her cervix.

This wasn’t two people fucking to find release, this was Sirius pledging himself to Hermione, to be her rock and protector, to be her equal in this mission, and Hermione promising to fix the future, not just for the greater good, but for them. She had to make sure that it was done right the first time so they had a chance in the future, their shared future.

Each stroke into her aching core brought her closer to release, but Hermione held back, not ready to tumble into oblivion without him, although the need was getting harder to ignore. Breaking their lip-lock, Hermione tilted her head back on the carpet as her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he ground his hips against hers in a slow circular motion, pushing the head of his cock against her g-spot. 

His lips found the hollow of her throat easily, tongue running across the chain of the Time-Turner that still lay between her naked breasts as they made love. He hated that stupid thing, but owed it so much. Without it, he would have never come to know her. Without it, he would face a future without his best friend, and pain. His lips wrapped around her skin as he began to suck a love bite upon the crook of her neck, marking her as his own. The future be damned, this witch was his now and he would make sure everyone knew it.

Within three more strokes, he eased Hermione into ecstasy, letting the tidal waves of her orgasm bring him to his as the walls of her pussy fluttered against his cock in a tight hold. A soft cry of pleasure was released against her skin as he drove into her still, pushing his seed further into her in some sort of primal need. As his cock begun to soften, he pulled away from her neck. Rolling onto the floor next to the limp witch, his arm went to rest above his head, eyes closed and the only sound that filled the living room was that of heavy breathing. 

Hermione was the first to move after several minutes. She pushed herself up onto her elbows to drop a kiss against his cheek before she pushed up off the floor. “I need to use the loo, but when I’m back we still have to talk. I have some intel on Remus you should know before the rest,” she told him, carefully stepping over his body to move past him and further into the flat.

Sirius dropped his arm, gray eyes cracking open to watch the backside of the witch as she moved away from him and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Of course she had a plan; his witch always had a plan. Just as his eyes closed once more, his body relaxing back onto the scratchy carpet the sound of the front door opening jolted the naked wizard. 

“Sirius, you bloody arsehole. Why did you tell-” As the front door was thrown open James crossed the threshold into his friend’s flat, “-Lily that you told me not to smoke? I should fucking hex yo---” His words faded away as hazel eyes landed upon the reclined, and very naked, body of his best mate on the floor. Thick brows shot to his hairline as he surveyed the room around him. Two sets of clothes were scattered about the entryway of the flat, and a pair of tiny sneakers that obviously did not belong to Sirius were next to the door, thrown haphazardly against the wall. 

Sirius reached for black boxers, sliding the cotton fabric around his hips quickly before he shimmied off the floor, pushing his hair back from his face. “For Merlin’s sake James, do you not knock?” he questioned as he double-stepped across the room towards the bathroom to prevent Hermione’s exit.

But before either wizard could speak, the bathroom door was cracked open and the very naked front of Hermione was exposed as she returned into living quarters. “Before I forget I need to borr--OOOH!” Brown eyes widened at the sight of another person in the room and Hermione froze, not due to being caught in her starkers, but rather the fact that the man in the entryway of the flat looked exactly like her best friend.

Of course, she had heard the similarities between James and Harry were great, but if she wasn’t so certain that her friend was safely at home in 1999 with his own red-headed witch, she might mistake them for each other. She stared dumbfounded at James, whose eyes roved over her nakedness before a deep crimson blush crept over his cheeks. When hazel and brown eyes connected, James turned around, his hand going up his brow to avert his eyes as he cleared his throat.

Hermione was pulled out of her trance when she felt Sirius’s hands go to her shoulders, pushing her back into the bathroom. As she stumbled over her feet, her hands went to the counter to prevent herself from falling and she was hit in the face with something quickly. Before she could remove the garment that was thrown at her from her face, Sirius has shut the door quickly. Hermione stood dumbfounded as she listened to the heated conversation that was taking place on the other side of the door, making no move to put on the shirt that Sirius tossed at her.   
  
“What are you doing here?!” Sirius had snapped, standing guard in front of the door, as if the physical presence in front of the bathroom could make James unsee the naked form of his girlfriend, although that technicality had not yet been established between the pair.

“What am I doing here?! I came to wait out Storm Lily. What are you doing shagging on your floor? You have a fucking bedroom.”

“It’s my flat, I can shag anywhere I want!”

“It’s not just YOUR flat, and I doubt Moony would appreciate you bringing a random slag home--”

“Watch your mouth, Prongs!” Sirius growled his warning in reply.

“I’m sorry,” James mocked, his voice doing little to hide the irritation in his voice. “I didn’t mean to offend the sensibilities of the trollop you brought home.”

The next comotion heard is what Hermione could only assume was Sirius tackling his friend. Her hands moved quickly, pulling Sirius’s shirt over her head and she glanced around the bathroom, finding a pair of boxers in the laundry basket in the corner she grimaced as she pulled them on. Not very hygienic, but she could overlook that fact right now.

Pushing open the bathroom door she looked around the room, frowning when she found the living room empty. She stepped out of the bathroom slowly, trying to assess where the fight was taking place. Auror training took over as she lightened her footsteps, bare feet padding softly against the scratchy carpet. Squatting down in front of the couch, her wand was picked up off the floor as she surveyed the room that was looking far more disheveled than it had moments ago. The end table was still overturned in the couch, but now the coffee table matched, and the couch was moved askew from its normal position.

It wasn’t until the sound of breaking glass echoed from down the hall that she determined that the pair were down the hall, in what she assumed was Remus’s bedroom. Snatching her wand from the floor beside the couch, she held the vinewood firmly as she moved down the hall towards the sound. The door that sat opposite from Sirius’s room was only just slightly ajar. Behind the wood she could hear the sounds of fighting accompanied by the occasional swear or snarl in instigation.

Reaching out with her free hand, she pushed the door open slowly, but made no move to enter. The glass from the single window in the room lay in large jagged pieces on the floor, and various books and knick-knacks were strewn about the room in the brawl. James currently had Sirius backed against the poster of the bed, one hand pressed against Sirius’s chest to pin him to the wood as the other was curled into a fist and drawn back, ready to strike.   


Breaking up a fist fight between two men was not something Hermione had much familiarity with, thankfully. If you needed someone to help track a dark wizard, she was your gal, or perhaps you needed assistance determining the best antidote for a Runespoor bite? Hermione could recite which method would be best depending on the climate in which the Runespoor lived. Her years at Hogwarts did not lend herself to handle many fights between Ronald or Harry, as they were usually busy avoiding someone trying to kill all of them instead.

Unsure of the best method to use to break up the brawling men, she did the first thing that popped into mind.  _ “Aguamenti,” _ she said with a quick wave of her wand. A bright ice-blue light appeared from the tip of her wand, which immediately pulled the attention of Sirius and James. Moments later an intense stream of liquid was sent in their direction, blasting James in the face first, sending his glasses flying from his face to land on the bed.

Sirius’s hand release his hold on James’s collar to try and shield the water stream from his body as he choked through the blast. “Hermione, stop! ST-STOPP!!” He spurted out behind the stream of water that was thoroughly drenching him and James. If her intention was to make both men completely forget about their skirmish and try to run from the firehose emerging from her wand, she was successful.

Dropping her wand, the stream of water disappeared, although a few droplets fell around her bare feet. The room, which had been messed up before, looked thoroughly ransacked as the blast of water didn’t just hit the men, but also everything on that side of Remus’s bedroom. James had moved past Sirius to try and hide from the spell, sunk down to the floor in a wet puddle, hazel eyes squinting towards the blurry figure at the doorway. “Hermione?” he questioned, brow furrowing.

Coughing up the last bits of water that had stuck in his throat, Sirius grunted in response before he too sank down on the floor, leaning back against the bed as his hands rose to push his sopping wet mop of hair off his face. “Hermione. Meet James….Prongs, Hermione,” he gestured between the two.

Crossing the room Hermione summoned James’ glasses from the bed, drying the lenses on her shirt before she held them out for the man at her feet. “I’d say nice to meet you, but since I’m a trollop, I’m sure my greeting should be far less appropriate.”   
  
James blushed crimson as he tucked the arms of his glasses behind his ears. “I’m sorry...I didn’t realize--”

“No you didn’t. Just ran your big mouth,” Sirius grumbled from his spot behind Hermione, his arms crossing across his bare chest.

“Oh cock off, Sirius. You don’t need to defend me,” she shot over her shoulder, foot kicking gently against his thigh in a warning. Turning back to James, her lips pursed into a thin line. “Does he make a habit of bringing strange women home often?” she questioned, although truthfully Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

James looked between Hermione and Sirius, who was shaking his head while mouthing ‘No.’ A slow smirk fell over his lips as the opportunity to rib his friend was placed graciously in his lap by the new girl in Sirius’s life and he glanced back up to Hermione. “No,” he said flatly, noticing that Sirius slightly relaxed in the corner of his eye before he continued. “Sometimes it's strange blokes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! I am getting to a point in this story where posting once a week is the most realistic option for various reasons, but the biggest is that I am having to deal with German History/European History during the Cold War Era and want to make sure I don't muck it up too bad. So my Wednesday postings will disappear for a little bit while our Recovery Team goes into Germany to attempt to rescue out favorite werewolf!! <3
> 
> Here is the link for the voting for the Mischief Managed Awards 2018 where this has been nominated for Best Time Travel Fic: ht tp s://dr ive.goo gle.com/form s/d/e/1FAI pQL ScSsCIdgy spQtyXUT9K sG6k5I2 RCC9el Nk8izBVT0pZ OACbOg/view form (Remove all the extra spaces. :) ) Voting is open until April 25th! 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to Islndgurl777. She edited a full chapter and then I changed my mind and rewrote this whole chapter early last week. She puts up with my crazy and is truly the best!
> 
> And of course thank you for all your lovely reviews. <3 ~ MM


	12. Meeting the Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 7th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 08:30**

The rest of the evening was spent in James’ company, and while Hermione was not complaining at the chance to get to know Harry’s father, it also meant there was no discussion of the Time-Turner, the future (or past, depending on who you ask) and what this meant for their shared time together. Instead, the trio got past the awkward introductions and spent their time eating from shared take out boxes. James, who had made himself at home in Sirius’s flat, was very willing to divulge the misadventures of his friend, making sure to leave out his own involvement of course. 

They had all stayed up into the early morning hours of the next day until Hermione finally drifted off to sleep in Sirius’s arms as the Marauders retold the riveting tale of how they won the Quidditch Cup their sixth year at Hogwarts. Hermione knew that she should not get attached to anyone else from the past, but she was unable to help it. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she craved to learn more about the man who so closely resembled her best friend. Whether Harry knew it or not, it seemed the father and son shared far more traits than just appearance. 

When the mid-morning sunlight was suddenly cast upon her face Hermione groaned, rolling over to bury her head against the bare chest of Sirius. Her nose nuzzled softly against the smattering of black hair, inhaling the aroma she had begun to crave for the past couple months. She felt Sirius’s arms wrap around her slender frame, tightening their hold as he pushed his face against the crown of her head, attempting to use the wild mess of curls as a shield from the sun.

“Time to get up, lovelies,” came a sing-songy voice that Hermione could not place. It wasn’t James, and certainly not Moody; she had not yet met anyone else from this timeline. Frowning against his chest, Hermione’s hand that rested upon Sirius gave him a soft nudge to awaken the slumbering man. 

Grumbling softly in response Sirius lifted his head, squinting his eyes across the room towards the offending person who had so rudely pulled open his curtains, before a soft groan was let out as he rolled onto his back, dislodging his arms from around Hermione in the process. His hand rose to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Merlin, Lils….It’s too god damn early,” he mumbled. 

“I’ll make sure to pass that along to Moody….who came to my house at 5 o’clock looking for the witch in your bed.”

Hermione’s eyes shot open; she did not dare more towards the feminine voice. She’d forgotten to owl Moody when she arrived. ‘ _ Oh Bugger.’ _ Untangling her legs from the comforter she pushed herself up off the mattress, brushing her curls down the best she could before she turned to face the redheaded witch across the room. Still dressed in the t-shirt and boxers, she internally thanked herself for at least having something to wear while she met Harry’s mother. At this rate, she might be dressed half-appropriately when she finally encountered her old professor. 

Brown eyes squinted through the sunlight, adjusting slowly to the mid-morning light that crept in the room. “Sorry. I was supposed to meet him last n--."

Suddenly a hand holding a steaming mug was thrust out towards Hermione as the blurry form of Lily Evans came into focus. “Oh I know,” she cut off Hermione’s explanation as she moved towards the bed, carefully stepping over the piles of clothing that littered Sirius’s bedroom floor. “I’m not sure how you take your tea,” she explained as Hermione reached out to tentatively take the warm mug from her hands.

Hermione eyed the steaming milky liquid cautiously before bringing it to her lips for a small sip. A small half smile was given in thanks as the warm Earl-Gray slipped down her throat. “This is fine, thank you.”

“Hey...where’s mine?” Sirius pushed herself up on off the mattress onto his elbows, looking to his friend expectantly. 

Lily looked past Hermione to Sirius as she brought her own mug to her lips, taking a loud slurp before clicking her tongue in his direction. “In the kitchen,” she responded flatly, although her green eyes twinkled with amusement when Sirius protested her decision.

“You don’t even know her, and you brought her a cuppa?” he challenged his friend, attempting to reach around Hermione to pluck the mug that was warming her hands.

“Sirius Orion, don’t you take that from her!” Lily wanted, pointing a finger towards her friend as her eyes narrowed in warning before she reached out, her hand curling around Hermione’s forearm and she pulled her gently from the mattress. “Us girls have to stick together when it comes to you lot….besides, I figured she might need some caffeine in her before I interrogate her.” She began out of the room, ushering the bed-headed Hermione behind her.

It was all Hermione could do not to let out a squeak in protest as she was briskly walked away from Sirius. Glancing over her shoulders, brown eyes sent a silent S.O.S. to the laughing Sirius who still lay in his bed. Careful not to slosh the tea over the rim of the mug, Hermione allowed herself to be tugged behind the redheaded witch who seemed to disregard the fact the two had not properly met.

Lily released Hermione’s arm once they reached the living room. Moving to the rickety dining table Lily took a seat before gesturing to the empty chair opposite of her. The redhead sat back with a somewhat casual grace that most women would kill for. It was as if the world was her oyster and that those around her would do her bidding without question. Hermione was no exception to her wiles, moving to the open chair and she took a seat. Bringing her mug up to her lips to take a sip, she watched Lily who surveyed her with a curious gaze.

“How long have you been back?” Lily questioned, bringing her own mug up to take a sip as a thin brow was raised. Lily had opted to skip over the formal introductions and go straight to business. She was obviously aware of who Hermione was (at least as much as the Original Order was privy to) and she undoubtedly assumed Sirius and James had made mention of their fiery redheaded companion last night.

“Less than a day, I got in last night,” Hermione replied, curling both hands around the warm mug as she set it on the table in front of her.

“Hmm,” was the only response Hermione received as the two women sat, staring expectantly across the table at one another. It reminded her when they first told Arthur and Molly about her and Ronald’s relationship; the mother hen who had known Hermione for years was quick to put up walls while she determined the nature of their relationship. Of course she was thrilled, but it was a mother’s duty to make sure that her son was choosing a good partner, or so she later told Hermione. Shifting uncomfortably under the green-eyed gaze, Hermione was the first to break the unintentional staring contest, looking away when she heard the rumbling of a waking James coming from behind the couch.

“So you two made up, I take it? Sirius has been quite sore with you.”

“We came to an understanding,” Sirius interrupted. He had just exited his bedroom, a pair of burgundy sleep pants sat low upon his hips. Shaggy hair still mussed from sleep hung in his gray eyes as he walked over to the pair of witches at the table. Bending low once he reached Hermione, his hand went to her cheek. Fingers brushed her wild curls back from her face as his lips brushed against hers lightly. His nose nudged hers ever so slightly, and when Hermione released a shaky breath in response to feeling those rough nimble fingers slide into her curls, he took advantage and nipped lightly at her bottom lip. When he pulled back the slow burn of a flush has risen to her cheeks, and his fingertips touched the crimson coloring before he pulled back to look at his friend on the opposite side of the table. “Although, we didn’t have much time to talk. No thanks to Prongs.”

“Time to talk? Since when is clothing optional while you talk?” James grumbled to himself, although loud enough for the others to hear, as he moved out of the living room and over to the kitchen, arching his back in an awkward stretch as he moved towards the trio. Once he reached Lily he bent down and pressed a good morning kiss upon her cheek. “Did ya bring me some clothes?” He mumbled his question as he reached out to snag the mug from in front of his witch, draining it of its contents before he closed his eyes in a long sigh of content.

Lily took her empty mug from James’s hands before rising from the table. “Of course. I should have made you go to the meeting wearing slept in clothes though,” she called over her shoulder as she moved into the kitchen to pour herself another cup. Lifting her wand, she flicked her wrist towards a small canvas bag that had lay on the countertop and it floated over to her boyfriend, who was smiling at her sweetly.

“Meeting?” Hermione questioned.

“The recovery team,” James explained as he began to dig through the bag to examine the clothes Lily had brought him. “Moody told us you had some intel that might be useful.”

“Of course. I just assumed it would only be Mad-Eye and myself going,” she said, more to herself than the group, as she rose from the table to go retrieve her messenger bag.

Sirius took the opportunity to slip into her empty chair, taking the half drunk mug in his hands as he watched her go across the room. “Mad-Eye?” Sirius questioned, head cocking every so slightly to the left in accompaniment of his question before taking a sip of her tea.

“Yeah… Alastor.” Her hand rose to gesture to side of her face as she made her way across the room back towards the group. “You know….wonky magical eye?” Her finger rotated a lazy circle in front of her left eye before moving to push her curls back from her face. She was sure the results of her actions in the past were beginning, but surely not something as finite as Moody’s choice to regain some sort of vision in his missing eye, right? Did he not opt for the magical eye in this timeline? Was he Patch-Eyed Moody now?

It was as if the connection was made for the two wizards at the exact same moment, for both Sirius and James’ eyes widened in delight. A slow foolish grin replaced the sleepy expression that James held. Turning to his friend, he did little to hide the giddiness in his voice. “Mad-Eye Moody….Oh sweet Circe’s tit. She really is brilliant, isn’t she?”

As the men (or perhaps at this moment it would be best to refer to them as boys) broke into a fit of laughter over the nickname that was most certainly going to be used in the future, Lily groaned. Nudging James out of the way she returned to her chair, eyes rolling as the two Marauders began to talk animatedly about the newly discovered nickname and how best to introduce the leader of original Order to his new (to them) nickname. 

Hermione set her bag down on the table, doing her best to ignore the animated tones Sirius and James spoke in as she pulled out the thick folder that was given to her by the Unspeakable prior to her time shift. She set it down on the table, which caught the attention of Lily.

Clearing her throat, Lily elbowed James in the hip before gesturing to the folder and suddenly Hermione could feel three sets eyes watching her every move. Straightening up, her bottom lip was licked before she opened the folder and she removed the stack of documents from inside. Laying out the photos and maps, her fingers trailed across the parchment. She had only a few minutes to review this before she’d left the Ministry, but it was pretty straightforward.

“So, what’s the plan? How are we getting Moony home?” James questioned as he moved next to Hermione at the table. The jovial behavior from moments earlier was gone, and Hermione understood why. This was the reason Kingsley agreed to send her back, and she--no, they had to make it right.

“Based on travel records, we think he is being kept here.” Shuffling the top couple photos of forest out of the way, she revealed a black and white photo of an aging castle what sat amongst a thick forest. 

James plucked the picture from the stack, fingers running across the moving picture of a large aging castle. The thick forest surrounding the ancient aging rock blew softly in a breeze, and although from the snapshot you could see lights on inside, no life could be detected. “Why have I seen this before?”

“That is the Selwyn family castle,” she explained, but when James did not react to the name, she allowed herself to explain further.

“The Selwyn family is a part of the Sacred 28. They have long been associated with dark times in Wizarding History,” Hermione elucidated as she looked up from her attention to the documents on the table. “They financially supported many uprisings during the last several centuries. The family greatly benefited from the chaos that would bleed over into the Muggle world. They would sell promises of protection and once the money was collected, kill the Muggles.” Flipping through the stacks of maps, she pulled out one that was an overview of Bavaria and spread it open over the table.

“The castle is here.” Her finger pointed to the center of the map where a small purple dot lay. “It happens to also be directly between two locations associated with the worst times in German Magical History.” Her hand moved across the paper to the north of the purple dot to stop onto of a small inked circle around a city.

“Würzburg was the location of the German Witch Trails in the sixteen hundreds. Four hundred wizards and witches were executed, and five hundred Muggles. The Selwyn family was known to be on the seat of the trials during that time. The family tried to say they were protecting wizards, but they used it to take out people that would oppose them. Magical or Muggle,” she explained, before sliding her finger across the map to below the purple dot, tapping another inked circle.

“Is that Nurmengard?” Sirius’s voice came from over her shoulder, interrupting her German magical history lesson. Hermione glanced over her shoulder to the tattooed wizard who drifted next to her to get a better look at the documents spread out across the table and she nodded in agreement.

“Yes.”

“Nurmengard?” Lily questioned, looking up to Sirius across the table in confusion.

“That place is supposed to make Azkaban look like a beach vacation. Grindelwald had it built to hold wizards who opposed him,” Sirius explained, reaching out to take the picture from James. His eyes ran across the moving landscape before he set it face down on the table, his jaw set in a hard line. “What day did you say we were leaving, Prongs?”

“Tomorrow,” James replied as he reached up to adjust his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

“Lily, I’m afraid we’re going to have to change plans for dinner tonight,” Sirius said, glancing over to her. “Our timetable’s adjusted. We’ll be leaving in a couple hours. With or without the rest of the Order.” 

* * *

**June 7th, 1979 - The Red Cottage - 12:30**

The remainder of the morning had gone by faster than intended. James, who originally planned on getting ready for the Order meeting at the flat, insisted he go home with Lily to allow Sirius and Hermione some alone time before she was ambushed by various members of the Order. The truth was he wanted to spend his own time with Lily before leaving her behind. He had yet to break the news to the witch that she would not be joining the rescue mission and he wasn’t sure how she would take it.

Upon their exit Hermione and Sirius fell into an easy routine, as this was not the first morning the pair had shared together. They ate what little leftovers could be found in the fridge before getting ready for the day. Hermione insisted on visiting Dooghan’s Apothecary down the street before meeting with the Order. If they were to leave today, they would need supplies, and the dusty old vials in Sirius’ cupboard were not giving her much confidence that they were not past the expiration date, which was conveniently absent from the faded labels.

Once the proper provisions were purchased Sirius Side-Alonged the pair to a fertile meadow in the countryside. As Hermione’s eyes adjusted to the new surroundings a strange tingle of familiarity began to twist in her stomach. Her head whipped around to survey the landscape. They were surrounded by rolling hills, all of which were covered in tall grass, and off in the distance to her left she could make out a small smoke stack that was puffing white clouds into the air. “Sirius, where are we?”

Sirius, having not noticed the way Hermione was looking about the landscape, was already three paces away, heading up the the closest hill on a somewhat worn down path. “We’re going to The Red Cottage,” he replied, as if that is the only explanation needed.

Hermione followed after him, her trainers gripping the moist earth as she moved up the hill. “I meant where in England,” she replied as she adjusted her messenger bag more onto her back to make her ascent up the slope easier. On reaching the crest of the hill her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t need to heard Sirius’s reply to know exactly where they were standing, as she had spent many a summer in this exact same field.

Brown eyes surveyed the recognizable foothills of her childhood. To her left stood the beginnings of a home she would always know, The Burrow. The first two stories had been added to the round-house that made up the bottom floor of the Weasley’s home. She could see the beginnings of the garden, and the framework for Arthur’s garage to the back of the home. From this vantage point she could make out the small forms of three children, all of which had the brilliant bright red Weasley hair, running around the garden chasing what she assumed were the garden gnomes. She’d known them all since her adolescent years, and wondered what they would each be like in youth. Fred and George could not have been much older than one; were they trouble makers already? Was Charlie flying pretend dragons about the garden? Or was Percy already chasing after the older boys, ordering them to listen to the rules set by their parents? 

Hermione’s spaghetti-string of  thought was interrupted when she heard Sirius call her name from her right. Breaking her gaze on the homestead, she looked where he stood halfway down the hill, pausing his descent as he looked expectantly up at her. “You coming?”

Beyond her handsome companion stood the small cottage that she had overlooked in her youth when walking through the foothills. The brick was painted bright red, and immediately surrounding the small abode was a small garden that was overrun with weeds. “Sorry, just admiring the view,” she lied, moving down the hill quickly to catch up to Sirius. His arm looped around her shoulders, fingers brushing her curls back before curling around the curve of her arm.

Hermione couldn’t help but lean into him a bit as they walked, her head coming to rest against his shoulder as her arm went about his middle, her index finger looping through his belt loop on the opposite hip from her. 

“You’ve been here before, haven't you?” Sirius questioned in a low tone as they moved close to the house, noticing her hesitation as they made their way closer. The rumbling of voices inside the home could be heard through the opened window that was letting the summer breeze in.

“Yes and no.” She bit her bottom lip as they got closer, the anxiety that had been building since she realized where they had landed was beginning to bubble up into her chest. “I haven’t been to  _ this _ home….but remember my friend, Ronald?” she questioned.

Sirius gave a small noise in acknowledgement to her question.   
  
“His parents live at the home on the other side of the foothills.”

At her divulgence Sirius stopped in his tracks, eyebrows raised to his hairline as he looked down at Hermione. “You’re friends with one of the Weasley boys?” he questioned in surprise before his brow furrowed. His hand went up quickly as he mentally listed off the tikes he knew. 

“William, Chauncy--”

“Charlie,” she corrected quickly, wrinkling her nose at him.

“Oh right, Charlie, Percy and the youngest are what… George and Frewyn?”

“Frewyn? Is that a name even used in this century?” Hermione shook her had at his, laughing as she slipped out of his grasp to turn and face him, not wanting for a reply before she continued. “No. It’s Fred.”

“Frewyn is a fine name. You should see some of the names on my tapestry.”

“I have,” Hermione reminded him flatly, her hands shoving into her pockets as she glanced behind her to the Red Cottage when a large crash could be heard coming from inside the home, followed by the joyful laughter of a small crowd of people.

“You have?” Sirius questioned as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “What else do you know about me?” His head cocked to the side as he watched her attention come back from the house in order to give him a small shrug in response. “You know what. We can talk about that later. Point is, there’s no Ronald,” he replied smugly. 

“Not yet….” Hermione let her voice trail off in an implied future as she raised her brows. Not daring to speak the connection out loud.

“Oh….Oh Merlin.” Gray eyes widened as the realization was made and took a half step forward, leaning down to get closer to her so he could whisper. “How much older am I than you….ya know, in your time?”

Hermione let out a quick laugh before she backed away from him, a wicked grin widening across her lips. “Does it matter, now? You’ve already shagged me. A couple times.” Tossing a wink his way she spun on her heel, moving closer to the cottage as Sirius watched her hips sway from behind, which he was sure she did on purpose.

His fist rising to his mouth to bite against his knuckles in a playful manner as he groaned. “Careful, Little bird,” he called out as he double-stepped to catch up to her. “Keep it up and I might add several more times...just to today’s tally,” he growled in her ear.

Hermione felt a soft crimson blush creep up her cheeks at his reply, although any response would have to wait until later, for as they crossed the threshold to the gate surrounding the cottage a very irritated looking Mad-Eye Moody came bursting through the front door.

“Ah...shit,” Hermione muttered under her breath, forcing a smile to her lips as he approached.

“Granger. Where the bloody hell have you been? Minister K--” he barked at her as he moved across the lawn. His trench coat, not faded with age in this timeline, billowed behind him at his brisk pace. He still had both legs, which was a good sign. His magical eye swiveled around his head, looking in all directions, even behind him as he approached the duo.

“The Minister did not inform me I was supposed to find you,” Hermione interrupted quickly to stop him from divulging the name. Kingsley Shacklebolt was still just an Auror now, and that was one timeline she was not sure she wanted to disrupt if she could help it. It was a lie of course, but Hermione would never admit to purposely disobeying orders, especially to the likes of Alastor Moody.

His heavy brow set in a frown as he gave a gruff grunt in response before looking over to Sirius, using his good eye to scan him over once. “Black….looks like you’ve managed to pull yourself from the bottle.”

Sirius, ever the gentleman, gave an extravagant bow at his waist, complete with a twirly hand motion in front of him. “As always a pleasure to see you, Moody.” He spoke in the most snootiest of tones he could muster before looking up to the Auror, still bent over in mock chivalry. “You look well. How’s the new eye treating you? Did you take my suggestion to see through clothing to heart?” he questioned as his dark brows wagged at Moody.

“Get up you fool.” Moody reached out, roughly shoving against Sirius to straighten the boy up as he mumbled something under his breath that sounded like ‘damn kids’ before he grunted, motioning for them to follow him as he made his way inside.  “You’re late you know. We were supposed to start forty-five minutes ago.”

“That’s my fault, Alastor. I asked Sirius to take me by an Apothecary before we arrived,” Hermione explained as she fell in line behind the Auror.

“Yes, she’s quite demanding,  _ Alastor _ ,” Sirius added before he swatted at Hermione’s backside playfully, using his position behind her to his advantage.

Gasping at the small sting that erupted over her arse, she looked over her shoulder, swatting at Sirius’ hands as she gave him a silent, but stern warning look before turning around in time to stop just inches away from running into Moody’s backside as he paused at the entryway to the home. 

Fumbling with the brass doorknob Moody grumbled a few curses under his breath before he placed his shoulder against the wooden door and with a quick shove the door swung open under the pressure and he stumbled into the house.

The door opened to a small living room that was practically humming with commotion. On a tattered old floral couch sat Lily surrounded by faces Hermione knew from the old tattered photo Sirius kept from his time with the original Order. To Lily’s left sat a shorter stout man she recognized as Frank Longbottom. Beside him on the arm of the couch was a much taller redheaded wizard in a purple three-piece suit with short clipped hair, while across the room from him sat another redhead wizard ,who would be identical if it weren’t for the shoulder length hair, in a maroon three-piece suit. In the back of the cramped living room she saw Mundungus Fletcher who was speaking in huddled tones to a very slim Peter Pettigrew.

When Moody crossed the threshold into the apartment the room went silent, and all eyes landed upon Hermione who stood frozen in the doorway. After half a beat of surveying the room a man who sat in a blue tartan kilt in a worn-out armchair beside the fireplace spoke up. “Well… Ya comin’ or goin’, Lass?” 

Well, it was now or never, right? Stepping into the room she glanced behind her to see that Sirius was being beckoned over by one of the redheaded twins. When the door behind her closed with a soft thump she turned around, glancing around the room to find an open spot, which was particularly impossible as more people had begun to enter the room from a doorway in the back.

“Uh… Alastor,” she spoke up as she moved close to the gruff Auror who was kicking a fluffy gray cat off an ottoman the man was clearly intending to use. “Should you introduce me?” she questioned in a half-whisper as she tried to tuck her body out of way, as James wound through the sea of people to deposit himself at the feet of Lily, playfully resting his head against her thighs so she would pet his unruly hair.

“Introductions,” he scoffed at her, adjusting his trench coat to reach inside and withdraw a silver flask that he promptly opened to take a swig from. “What do you think this is Granger? Hogwarts? I’m not your Professor,” he growled, capping his flask. 

His head did not lift to her, but she could see his magical eye come to rest on her as she placed her hands on her hips, lips pressing into a thin line of agitation. “Merlin, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Fine. I’ll _ introduce _ you,” he conceded, although by the tone in his voice, once could assume he was not happy to do so. 

Clearing his throat to gain the attention of the room, who had once more begun to talk in hushed tones, Moody adjusted his slouching posture to appear more authoritarian. “Alright you lot, shut it.” He spoke loudly, surveying the room slowly until every last member who had crammed inside ceased their conversation. “Dumbledore told you all last time that we had someone who could provide us with Remus’s location and here she is.” A rough stubby hand gestured to Hermione. “She might be shite with combat, but smart as a whip,” he explained, nodding his head before turning to look at Hermione. “There ya go. Yer introduced.” A smug smile was given to the witch before he took another sip from his opened flask.

Hermione let out frustrated sigh as she rolled her eyes at the mouthy Moody before turning to look back at the crowd. “Uh.. Hi.” Her hand rose in an awkward wave before her hands clasped together in front of her waist, unsure of what else she was supposed to do or say. Standing in front of crowds did not make her nervous, nor did leading a small group, but what was making her stomach twist into knots was knowing that almost every single person in this room was going to die unless she was able to succeed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello! Happy Saturday. Thank you for all the reviews and encouragement. I get so excited every time I see a new review has been left. I hope you all stick around till the very end. (which we are no where near.) I've gotten a couple questions between here, FB and FFN and I'd like to answer them:  
> 1) I try to post every Saturday. Occasionally I get to a point where I have many chapters written and beta'd so I can post more than 1 week, but at a minimum I will try to post every Saturday.  
> 2) The Featherfall charm in Ch. 5 is actually a D&D spell that I leveraged for here. It seemed like a spell that could easily translate over to the HP universe. If you're a D&D fan you might see some other spells make their way over in the future.  
> 3) Although technically Hermione could not wear the Time-Turner for the return trip, the repercussions for doing so might be far greater than any of the Unspeakables imagined. All I can say is stick with it!! it absolutely will be addressed in the future. ;P 
> 
> If you have any other questions feel free to leave them below and I'll answer them!
> 
> Just a reminder, the Mischief Managed Awards 2018 are still open, and this has story has been nominated for Best Time Travel. It's such an honor to even be nominated in the category that has so many other amazing writers and stories. If you want to cast your vote, use this link: ht tp s://dr ive.goo gle.com/form s/d/e/1FAI pQL ScSsCIdgy spQtyXUT9K sG6k5I2 RCC9el Nk8izBVT0pZ OACbOg/view form (Remove all the extra spaces. :) ) Voting is open until April 25th! 
> 
> ~ MM


	13. Zürich or Bust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 7th, 1979 - Ottery St. Catchpole - 16:30**

As predicted, Moody was not thrilled with at least three revelations that came from this meeting. The first, he was not in agreeance with the decision to depart to Germany tonight. His work schedule was not able to accommodate him leaving a day early, as he was on Prime Minister Patrol. This meant in his absence Hermione would be taking point on the mission while he stayed home, which took them to the second reason he was pissed. Moody was not an eloquent man, so when the decision was made by the team for Hermione to take lead he let the whole group know exactly how he felt about it. And finally, number three. Alastor Moody absolutely, 100% despised his new nickname, so much so, that he left The Red Cottage in a fury without conducting a debrief.

Mission: Rescue Moony was officially ago. It was agreed that they would meet at 16:30 in Ottery St. Catchpole between The Red Cottage and The Burrow with the Ministry-approved Portkey to Switzerland. The German Ministry had effectively split into two opposing sides, much like the rest of the country in 1979, and while Western Germany of Magical Peoples was happy to accept visitors, the Portkeys were often rerouted to Socialist Republic of German Wizards territory and those wizards or witches who had the unfortunate pleasure of appearing in Eastern Germany were often not sent home for several months, if at all.

Not willing to risk the chance of becoming a casualty of the political war (or miss their chance at rescuing Remus), Hermione insisted they Portkey to just outside Zürich and take the Muggle train to Stuttgart. This also meant they needed to appear like Muggle tourists as to not draw attention from the German officials of their top secret business.

Sirius had volunteered to purchase Muggle outfits for the team, minus Hermione, who declined due to already having a wizard and Muggle wardrobe. With Sirius as the personal shopper this meant that half of the team was dressed in 1970’s punk attire. The other half, who absolutely refused to wear the clothing provided, simply discarded their robes and kept their personal style the same. As Hermione watched the odd group of men walk across the field, her smile was hidden behind her hand as she tried to prevent herself from bursting into laughter over the rag-tag appearance of the team.

James was attempting to pull down at the crotch of his jeans to create a less tight fit and grimaced. “Padfoot, are you sure this is what Muggles wear?” he questioned, glancing over to his friend who was running a comb through his hair to push the falling strands from his gray eyes.

“Absolutely. The girl at the shop told me it’s called Punk. Very in now, especially in Germany,” he explained, glancing over to Hermione when they approached with an twinkle in his eyes. “Right, Little bird?”  
  
“Sirius got it on the nose. Punk is very popular with Muggles,” she agreed, trying her best to hide her laughter. The intention was to blend in to the Muggle world, not stand out, and while punk clothing was not necessarily out of place, it would make sure that no one approached them, but it might leave a bit of a impression. Especially once they crossed the border into Germany.

“If that’s so, why aren’t you dressed in these absurd Muggle clothes?” Mundungus called out from the back of the pack as he adjusting the collar of his white button-down before running his finger across the neck of his thin red tie.

“What? I’m wearing Muggle trousers.” Sirius gestured to his lower half before tucking his comb into his back pocket next to his wand. “Besides, they’ll be too distracted by my good looks to notice anything else.”

Hermione let out a quick laugh at Sirius’s comment, her eyes instantly casting away from the group as they all turned to look at her. Trying her best to cover her laugh with a cough, her hand rose to cover her mouth. “Excuse me,” she said, placing her hand that had been coughing her cough upon her chest. “Allergies,” she explained.

“Oh you should really go see my Mollywobbles when you get back. She’s got a wonderful spell to clear the nasal passages.” Hermione did not need to turn to see who this voice belonged to, as she had heard it most of her childhood summers. Arthur Weasley closed in on the group, having come from the opposite side of the field where the Burrow stood.

“Dear Godric, Arthur. What the hell did you do to your eyebrow?!” Fabian exclaimed as he looked past Hermione to his brother-in-law.

Arthur was dressed in a pair of deep green baggy trousers that tucked into a pair of boots that appeared as if they were at least a size too large for his feet. A sleeveless white ‘SEX PISTOLS’ shirt was worn with the British flag, but it appeared someone took some ink to the first word to make it less crude, thus changing it to ‘SIX PISTOLS’. A leather vest that was covered in various types of pins (sewing pins, safety pins and even a couple buttons from Muggle amusement parks were thrown in for good measure) was worn over his shirt proudly. It was obviously Arthur, ever the Muggle enthusiast, had taken it upon himself to doctor up whatever clothing was provided to him.

Hermione looked over her shoulder to catch sight of the much younger version of Arthur and her laugh caught in her throat. Through his right eyebrow was a silver safety pin.

“Oh this?” Arthur motioned up to his eyebrow casually, but by his voice you could tell he was absolutely brimming with excitement. “I just used a little charm. Didn’t actually put it through my skin. I tried! But it was quite painful. I figured Molly would be cross if it left a scar,” he explained as he reached up to pull the safety pin from his brow, which seemed to pop off like a magnet off a fridge.

“Bloody hell, Artie,” Gideon muttered under his breath as he shook his head. “Muggles wouldn’t do such a thing. Never seen one with a bleedin’ nappy pin in their face.” He eyed the safety pin as Arthur continued to show those immediately surrounding him the ability to remove and add the magic’d pin.

Hermione kept her distance, watching the group huddle around to marvel at Arthur. Although he wore many less worry lines of gray hairs in this time (no doubt many of those would come as the twins aged) he still held the kind face and friendly demeanor. She couldn’t help but feel a rock beginning to form in her throat as she blinked back tears. She had long thought of this mission as a curse, but she was granted the ability to know many of the adults in her life before the awful effects of the war. She was getting a glimpse into the people they were before they had lost so much.

“I hate to break up show and tell,” Hermione called out to the group of men before clearing her throat to gain their attention. “But I believe the Portkey is going to activate soon.” Her index finger tapped her slim black wrist watch.

“Oh, right!” Arthur said quickly, as if he had forgotten the reason for his attire until this moment. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a wadded up white handkerchief and carefully exposed its contents inside, a slim beat-up looking match box.

“Knicked it from the Ministry, eh? Artie you old dog.” Fabian elbowed Arthur with enough force to cause the redhead to stumble back a little under the motions. His voice was full of what one would only assume was pride that his ‘by the book’ Ministry brother-in-law might have done something illegal.

Arthur glanced between James and Fabian, as if wanting to confirm James might go along with the mistruth. “Oh yeah...snuck on lunch and swiped it. Even did the Portkey enchantment myself.”

“What? I thought Du-- Ouff!” Sirius winced as James sent his elbow into his ribs, his hands going to protect his side as a frown crossed his features.

“Arthur was brilliant. Really helped the Order out,” James offered up quickly, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his tight jeans as he bounced between his toes and the balls of his feet. When Sirius looked at him in confusion, James shook his head just slightly enough for his friend to notice before nodding his head over to Arthur, who was being clapped on his back by the older Prewett twins who were proudly telling Mundungus that they knew Arthur would make a good addition to the team.

Hermione walked over to the group, encroaching on the group of men. “Arthur.” The name felt so foreign on her tongue, as she had called him Mr.Weasley so for long, even while dating Ronald. “Do you mind holding out the matchbox, or would you rather I held it?” she questioned, motioning to Sirius and James to come closer.

Arthur extends his hand towards the center of the huddle that had formed around him and one by one, the member of the motley crew who made up the recovery team each extended a finger to place upon the matchbox. Hermione was the last of the group to do so, and as she did she glanced up to the faces of the members. Everyone was still so young, and so naively happy. They did not know the horrors that might await them once they crossed into the forest to rescue Remus.

“Remember,” Hermione’s voice cut through the various side conversations. “We’re supposed to be Muggles. Wands away when we land.”

“Wands away? Wait a minute, I never ag---” Mundungus’ protest was cut off at the clock ticked to 17:00 and the Portkey activated. The matchbox vibrated with magic before a bright white light burst out from the tattered seams of the cardboard and at once the group was swirled away from the field in Ottery St. Catchpole.

* * *

 

**June 7th, 1979 -Zürich, Switzerland - 18:00**

Herding cats would likely have been easier than trying to take six wizards to Zürich Main Station. They had landed on the banks of Limmat River about five kilometers from the station in the middle of a Muggle park, and went fairly unnoticed until they got closer to the station. As they moved out of the neighborhoods and into the market district the attention gathering to the group grew. Muggles who were sitting outside on restaurant patios enjoying the cool summer breeze the sunset offered could not help but notice the overly enthusiastic group.

Hermione was leading the pack down the winding sidewalk, occasionally checking the folded up map in her hand as she navigated. Arthur Weasley was at her heels, practically vibrating with excitement. “Arthur, please try to keep your voice down,” she said over her shoulder.

“Sorry Hermione, it’s just I didn’t know we were going to travel by Muggle train!! I’ve heard they upgraded to something called electrocity. Perhaps I can ask the conductor some questions regarding the uses of electrocity,” he mused, completely oblivious to the befuddled stares he was getting.

“You should absolutely do that, Artie. I bet this conductor might even let you drive the train,” Gideon suggested from behind his brother-in-law. Both Gideon and Fabian had declined the clothing from Sirius, which if one could believe, made them stand out more amongst the others dressed in punk attire as they both wore brightly colored three piece suits. As the group passed a restaurant Gideon turned to wink at a group of middle aged women who were watching the group pass while sharing a bottle of wine. As the women broke into a fit of giggles, he began to slow his walk, obviously intent on going to talk to them until his twin gave him a small shove from behind to continue their trek through the city.

“Let me drive? Do you really think?!” Arthur exclaimed.

Hermione let out a small groan, her hand going up to pinch the bridge of her nose before a heavy sigh was released. When they reached the street corner she stopped, turning to the group behind her. Sirius and James were leading up the rear, and somehow each a pint in hand halfway drunk. “Okay, that’s it,” she snapped, her lips thinning into a line. “Everyone get here, now.” This was obviously not a request.

Mundungus approached to her left. The man had refused to deposit his wand upon landing in Zürich. Instead he clutched it tightly in his left hand as he eyed his surrounding carefully, as if half expecting something to attack them in the middle of the city.

“You,” Hermione reached out, two fingers poking Dung in the center of his chest. “If you don’t put that away right now, you’ll have a lot more to worry about than some Muggles,” she hissed in warning. “The rest of you, get it together. We have less than thirty minutes to make it to the train station, purchase tickets and get on our way and I can’t keep stopping to take roll to make sure we haven’t lost anyone,” she snapped.

“Well, if you let us use magi--”

“Sirius Orion Black if you finish that sentence I might be liable to seal your mouth shut!” Brown eyes flashed over to the raven haired wizard in warning. “I don’t even know how you two managed to find a pint between here and the river, but get rid of the damn thing right now.”

Sirius had been around the witch long enough by now to know when she was at the end of her rope. Clearly not wishing to press his luck he lifted his pint to his lips and began to quickly gulp down the contents.

“Damn. I thought Lily was scary,” James muttered under his breath before he too tipped back his pint to finish off the brew before he set the empty glass down on a nearby storefront window.

Hermione shook her head, and rolled her eyes at the pair before turning her attention over to Gideon and Fabian. “And you two need to stop encouraging him. It’s bad enough he had a safety pin through his eyebrow, all these questions are making people stare,” she reprimanded before glancing over her shoulder to see that traffic was beginning to slow on the street. “All of you just keep quiet and stop distracting the Muggles.”

Moving away from the group she hurried across the road, and for the next several blocks the group remained as silent as the grave. Just as Hermione was beginning to relax in the silence, the group turned the corner and as Zürich Main Station came into view, from behind her she heard. “Sweet Nimune! Those are the electrocity train cars!”

Before she could react to Arthur's proclamation, her body was lightly shoved from behind as he moved up the walkway at lightning speed towards the entrance to the train station. Stumbling from the impact, she watched him zip past Muggle travelers with the enthusiasm reminiscent of a small child. When he burst through the double doors leading into the train station it was as if a switch was flicked and her mind caught up to the scene before her. She had just allowed Arthur Weasley to go into a Muggle train station, the busiest station in all of Switzerland, unaccompanied.

“Shit!” Double-stepping, she jogged into the train station, hair whipping against her cheeks as she scanned the crowds in search of their overly excited friend. Sirius, the only one in the group who felt the need to run up ahead with her, nudged her shoulder gently as he pointed over to a large glass partition, which Arthur was currently plastered against waving at some Muggles as they boarded a train car. “Merlin, that man is going to give me a heart attack,” she muttered under her breath before a laugh was released, as she was unable to deny the amusement from the situation at hand.

“You said you knew him already. I didn’t think I’d have to warn you.”

“I do know him. He’s only just slightly more reserved though,” she explained, glancing up to Sirius with a half grin.

Gray eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked down to the witch to his right. When their eyes locked, he took advantage of the moment and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon her lips, while his hand snaked slowly around her waist.

The kiss did not last long, for as much as Hermione wanted to do nothing but snog Sirius, prior to Moody leaving the Red Cottage in a huff he had made sure to lecture the entire Order (although it was clearly directed at Lily and James) on how going on missions with lovers could lead to complications. Hermione let her nose brush against Sirius’ as they parted, a slow smile falling onto her lips. “Sirius, you know we can’t. Not until we get back to England,” she explained, teeth biting her bottom lip as took a half step away from him to break from his grasp.

“You know. I’ve been thinking about that,” Sirius began, fingertips trailing against the skin on her hip before he pulled back to brush his hand through his hair. “It’s a stupid rule. Mad-Eye has no idea what he’s talking about,” he tried to reason, a playful grin on his face. When all he received in return was a head shake of ‘no’, he sighed. “Okay. Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he muttered as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, as if to emphasize his point.

“It’s three days, I think you can manage,” Hermione countered before gesturing over to Arthur at the window. “Just go keep an eye on him while I get the tickets, please,” she requested, beginning to walk backwards from Sirius towards the ticketing booth.

“What do I get out of it?”

“My undying appreciation.”

“I’d rather have a jobby.” Shrugging his shoulders when he was shot a look of disbelief, a playful grin spread further across his features. “What? I’ll I’m sayin’ is that I would like that much more.” Before she could respond Sirius turned on his heel, moving swiftly across the busy station to go stand next to Arthur.

While the rest of the recovery team made their way into the station, Hermione was able to secure seven tickets to Stuttgart. Crossing the border to Western Germany would not be hard as Hermione was able to charm booklets to appear as passports; it was what lay beyond the borders that gave her some pause. Keeping the six wizards out of trouble and under the radar long enough to get to Sewlyn Castle might be the hardest part of the trip.

The group was able to board the train at 19:30 and a half an hour later, they were on their way. The group had settled in the car closest to the dining car upon Fabian and Gideon’s insistence. They took up the very back of the railcar, sitting in the last six rows spread out. Mundungus was the first to call it a night after claiming two seats for himself and spreading out, boots towards the aisle. Fabian and Gideon laid their suitcoats over the two seats each across from each other, marking their spot before they strong-armed Arthur to accompany them to the bar to have a nightcap.

Sirius, ever the opportunist, encourage James to join them to make sure that they didn’t overindulge and once his mate had disappeared from the car he moved to the seat in front of Hermione’s. Kneeling backwards over the top of the seat he plucked the book from her lap, disrupting her from her reading.

“Excuse me. I was reading that.” Hermione’s brow furrowed before she looked up to the offender. A thin brow lifted towards him as her hand was held out.

Sirius smirked, closing the text without bothering to mark her place. “ _Runes Germanicus_ , _Ancient Runes of Germany’s Most Ancient and Noble Houses…_.sounds so enlightening,” he mused, examining the cover before tossing the book behind him without a second thought.

As she watched the book fly over his shoulder Hermione’s eyes went wide and she shot out of her seat, moving quickly towards the book that lay on the ground before Dung’s sleeping form. “Sirius! That’s not mine. I borrowed it from Madam Pince’s personal collection,” she scolded, but before she could reach the book, Sirius had moved behind the witch, his arms encircling her thin waist and he guided backwards down the aisle, the tips of tops barely trailing across the floor.

“Don’t know her. Don’t care,” Sirius muttered into Hermione’s ear before his mouth pressed against the side of her neck just beneath her ear in a spot that he knew made her knees weak.

“She’s the Hog---oh Godric, forget it,” she sighed as her skin seemed to ignite under his actions. No longer fighting urge to get back to the text that lay carelessly on the dirty floor of the train, she allowed herself to be dragged backwards to the rear of the train car.

Sirius smiled against the soft skin of her neck, teeth grazing softly against the junction of shoulder to throat before he pulled back when he connected with the back door of the train car. Spinning around, he allowed his right hand to remain on her hip, guiding her with him to face the other direction. Reaching out, his hand waved in front of the locked door. “ _Alohomora._ ” With a bit of wandless magic, the pocket door popped open and Sirius slid it wide enough to push their bodies into the cramped supply room.

Shutting the door behind him, he advanced upon Hermione, backing her against a rickety metal shelf that held various cleaning supplies. His mouth was upon hers before she could protest, pressing needy kisses against her plump lips as his hands came to rest upon hips, fingers digging against the denim waistband of her shorts.

Hermione’s hand came to rest against Sirius’s chest, fingertips playing at the collar of his shirt with the soft black hairs that peaked out from beneath it. As his lips moved from her mouth to her neck, Hermione tilted her head back, offering more skin to his devouring. “Sirius...we shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered between a breathy moan as she felt his right hand slide around her hip to the button of her jeans.

Sirius’ fingers worked quickly to free the silver button from the denim before he slowly pushed her zipper down, letting the soft grind of the teeth of the zipper coming undone fill the room before his hand slipped into the open shorts to brush his fingertips against her panty-covered mons. “Should I stop?” His voice was husky, thick with desire as he nuzzled his nose against the curls beside ear. His fingertips pressed against her labia through the damp fabric, parting her folds to brush against her clit.

Hermione gulped at the feeling before her body gave an involuntary moan in encouragement, and that was all the reply Sirius needed. Of course she didn’t want him to stop, but if the men returned from the dining car and found them missing, surely they would go looking, wouldn’t they? As his fingers inched up her mons and slipped beneath her cotton waistband, his knee pressed between hers, parting her thighs to make room for his hand as he delved two fingers into her core.

Her breath hitched in her throat, caught between a moan and a whimper as he worked a slow rhythm into Hermione, his hips rocking in time against her thigh with his fingers as his mouth latched onto the hollow of her throat.

Hermione’s right arm locked around Sirius’ shoulder, holding him close while her left arm reached back to brace against the shelf. Her teeth clamped down upon her bottom lip, trying her best to stifle her noises of encouragement as to not give away their position.

Sirius pulled away, his tongue darting out to run across the love bite he’d just created, smirking against her skin before he lifted his face towards hers. “I want you, Little bird. You’ve tormented me all day in these damn shorts.” He breathed out against her skin, making sure to grind his length against her hip to prove his point.

A shiver ran up her spine at his actions, knowing that this should not continue, but as she had begun to realize, when she was around Sirius, all rational thought seemed to escape her. “Then take me,” she challenged in a breathy whisper before her lips pressed against his.

That was something Sirius did not need to be told twice. Sliding his fingers from her sopping core, he hooked his fingers underneath her panties and shorts at her hips, pushing them down quickly. As she stepped out of the offending garment, his hands moved up her thighs, fingertips running across the hex scar on her lower thigh before curling against the skin just beneath the swell of her arse, fingernails grazing against the sensitive flesh.

Hermione’s right hand dropped quickly, unbuckling his belt and opening up his jeans quickly before withdrawing his hardened cock quickly, giving it a soft squeeze before she was hoisted off the ground.

The train’s motion caused their bodies to sway to and fro gently as he lined up his cock at her entrance, rubbing the head against her folds before he eased her down on his length, causing the pair to both moan in shared pleasure.

Sirius stilled once she had fully accepted his length into her wet core, his fingertips pressing deeply against the soft flesh of her backside as he relished the tight hold her body held over him. She was better than anything he had ever known in his life; no vice could compare to the hold this witch had over him. She was his favorite drug, and he was now an addict. His desire for a relationship with her was obvious, but he needed to know if she felt the same. Was this pull the same for her?

“Hermione,” Sirius was the first to break the fevered kiss, his forehead pressing against hers, eyes closed. “Would you...D-do you,” he began, struggling to find the words as she rotated her hips to encourage him.

“Stop talking,” she interrupted, pulling her head back just enough to peer into his gray eyes through the darkness. “I’m yours. You don’t need to ask,” she reassured. The skin on her cheeks was flush, pupils blown wide with desire. Her hand lifted to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the skin against his cheek softly.

Sirius’ eyes drifted between her swollen lips and eyes, her words ringing in his ears. “Say it again,” he requested.

“I’m yours.”

He could live forever just on the nurishment those two words provided his soul. Leaning forward his mouth took possession of hers once more to swallow her cries of pleasure as he began to thrust into her shallowly, slowly working up to the pace and strength he knew his witch craved.

Her body crashed against the shelf behind her in a steady rhythm, the metal shelving digging against her spine roughly as he snapped his hips against hers, sending her back into the shelving with each thrust. Her right hand curled into his hair, holding his mouth to hers to stifle her cries of bliss as her left held onto the shelf behind her, nails scratching against the surfaces in a desperate attempt to ground herself in the moment.

Their magic brushed against one another in the tiny cramped room, and neither of them could be sure if it was the train that caused the windows to rattle, or their union, but what was certain, was that any thought of keeping quiet was long forgotten as he drove her closer to the edge of oblivion.

His mouth broke from hers as it became harder to breathe as his pace quickened. His forehead pressed against her shoulder, shaggy black hair mussed from their lovemaking. Hermione's head tipped back as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her cries filling the tiny room.

Sirius felt the silken walls of her core flutter against his length on the verge of her orgasm, his eyes closed tightly, fingertips pressing bruisingly against the fleshy globes of her arse. “Mine,” was whispered in a grave tone before his teeth clamped down upon her neck in a primal show of dominance.

The bite was all that was needed to send her over the edge, for as he drove into her fiercely, the molten waves of pleasure of her orgasm bubbled up over her body and all she could do was hold tight to Sirius as they crashed over her. The heels of her trainers dug against his lower back and her nails upon his shoulder dug half-moon circles through his shirt.

Sirius’ own bliss was found shortly after, his seed spilling into her core as her body seemed to milk the essence from him. Letting go of her skin, his tongue lapped against the groove his teeth had left, tasting the metallic twinge of blood upon the broken skin. Sirius tugged her body down, setting his cock deep inside her swollen core before his head lifted. Gray eyes cracked and peered through the darkness towards the satisfied witch in his arms.

Hermione’s head was still laying back on the shelf, curls a bird’s nest of a mess from how she had been jostled against the shelving unit. Her eyes were closed, as suddenly her eyelids felt as if they were three times a heavy as normal as she tried to collect her breath.

Sirus’s hand lifted to brush back a few stray curls from Hermione’s forehead before his hand dropped, letting his fingers dance across the delicate skin upon her neck, feeling the small raises from his love bites. “You’re gorgeous,” he said softly as his gray eyes took in her disheveled appearance.

Hermione’s eyes cracked open at his words, the corners of her mouth lifting just slightly. “And you’re daft.” Reaching behind her to stabilize her dismount from Sirius’ hips against the slow rocking of the train, she unwrapped her legs, wincing as the withdrawal of his cock from her swollen sex.

“I mean it, Little bird,” Sirius redressed himself before bending down on the floor, picking up her discarded knickers and jeans shorts, carefully helping her step into the garments before he stood, tugging the fabric up her hips. “There’s something about you. I can’t explain it.”

“It’s my sharp wit and stunning personality,” she joked as she replaced his hands upon her jeans to fasten them once more, eyes dropping to make sure she threaded the button through the hole before she looked up.

“Those help.” Reaching out his hand cupped her jaw, gliding her closer to him once more while his free hand snaked around her waist to rest upon her lower back. “You’re mine. I meant it.” His face was brought close to hers once more, the tip of his nose brushing against hers as their eyes danced.

“What about the other men I’m shagging? You wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings, would you?” she whispered, her lips just barely brushing his with each word. the sarcasm lacing her words ever apparent.

Sirius could not resist the urge to growl as her words, hand cupping the side of her face to slide into her hair on the side of her head, threading the wild locks between his fingers. “You’re mine, and I do not share.” At his words, Sirius pulled back just slightly from their half-kiss, gray eyes locking on brown.

Hermione’s hand rested on his chest once more. Somewhere along this journey Hermione had allowed herself to give into this fairytale of a relationship; she could not help herself. He was blurring the lines in her head, intoxicating her more than any drug would have ever been able to. He was her morphine and suddenly she was a fiend, ready to succumb to her addiction, even if it was for just one more time, and while she did not doubt that Sirius meant his words, she also knew, deep down that this would never be able to last. He was technically twenty years her senior, and if they made it out of this alive, they still had to deal with the fact he had been in a romantic relationship with one of his best friends.

Hermione felt her heart quiver at the idea of having to give him up, even if it was to a better person than herself and she forced those feelings down. She had two more uncomplicated days to be with Sirius. Forty-eight hours before they would be forced deal with that dilemma. “Neither do I,” she replied playfully, letting a small grin wash over her features. “And blokes count too,” she teased, reaching up to playfully tug on a stray strand of black hair before winking at him.

Sirius let out a small howl in laughter, his head shaking at her. “But not if we shag them together?” he offered, wagging his brows towards his witch.

Her hand went out, landing a smart smack against his chest before he was shoved lightly back. “Sirius Orion Black, what am I going to do with you?” Her arms came to cross of her chest as she laughed.

“I have a couple ideas. I’ll make sure to write them down so we can address them later.” Tossing a wink to his witch he leaned over, pressing a sweet kiss against her cheek before he turned around in the cramped closet and opened the door, poking on his head out to make sure the coast was clear.

Sirius left the now muggy closet, his hands attempting to smooth his hair back into submission after their lascivious activities. He walked the length of the nearly empty train car, depositing himself in the seat next to the one Hermione had occupied earlier. He adjusted his shirt before kicking up his feet on the inside armrest of the seat in front of him.

Hermione followed him moments later, her hands scooping up the messy curls to pile them into a bun on the top of her head as she shimmied down the aisle. Moving to the row that Dung was dozing off in, she picked up the fallen text from earlier, brushing the cover off. As she moved into the seat next to Sirius, she was so engrossed with examining her book that she did not notice with Mundungus stuck his head over the seat back in front of them.

“If you two were trying to have a bit of a go without anyone noticing, you should really work on silencing charms. The whole bleedin’ train probably knows,” he chided, a deep frown over his sleepy features. “Some of us are trying to get some sleep and don’t want to hear about who belongs to who.” With a final harrumph in disapproval, he disappeared over the seat backs. Hermione’s mouth was ajar, her hands frozen in her lap as she grasp of his words washed over her. Sirius seemed to take the tongue lashing in stride, simply laughing as he wound his arm around Hermione’s shoulders in a casual embrace.

 “Don’t be sore Dung. We all know it must be hard to please a witch with a tiny knob,” Sirius replied, bursting into a fit of laughter as Dung, obviously not amused with Sirius’ reply, rose from his seat, tossing his coat onto the floor in his rush to verbally spare with the younger wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, Jobby = Blowjob.
> 
> This chapter was absolutely inspired and written by the Classic Punk station on Amazon’s Music. I’ve had nothing but Sex Pistols, Misfits, The Clash, Dead Kennedys and Fugazi as my soundtrack for over a week now. The idea of having the Rescue team walking through 1979’s Switzerland and Germany dressed as Muggle Punks could not leave my brain and had to be written, as Arthur Weasley would so desperately accept the attire to be completely normal for all Muggles without a second thought. <3 I hope you all enjoyed that visual as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> As a quick reminder The Mischief Managed Awards are open until April 25th. 
> 
> ht tp s://dr ive.goo gle.com/form s/d/e/1FAI pQL ScSsCIdgy spQtyXUT9K sG6k5I2 RCC9el Nk8izBVT0pZ OACbOg/view form (Remove all the extra spaces. :) )
> 
> Got questions? Want to let me know how much you love, or hate this story, drop a line in the comments! I’d love to hear your thoughts so far.
> 
> ~ MM


	14. Something Serious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 8th, 1979 - Crailsheim, Germany - 03:00**

The remainder of the train ride was uneventful, and discussion of their rendezvous was not brought up by the rest of the team, much to Mundungus’ chagrin. As the early morning hours ticked by Hermione allowed sleep to overcome her senses; the rocking motion of the train calmed her enough to drift off against Sirius’ shoulder. James had kept true to his word and prevented Fabian and Gideon from over-intoxicating their brother-in-law, and chaperoned the trio back to their seats by midnight. By the time the train rolled into Stuttgart all of the seven were fast asleep and had to be awoken by the conductor.

As one might imagine, the group of men was much more easily managed when they were sleepy. Arthur’s habit of wandering off was curbed, Gideon flirted with less strangers and the two Marauders did not partake in pints in the middle of the street. Despite the early morning hour, Hermione was able to flag down two black cabs and secured them all a ride to Crailsheim, which was a little over an hour away.

Splitting the group between the two cars, Hermione sat sandwiched between Sirius and James in the back of the lead cab. Sirius’ head lay in her lap, enjoying the feeling of her fingers stroking against his scalp, while James lay claim to her shoulder. He had originally used the window as a pillow, but found it far too uncomfortable. When they eventually did make it to the next city, she had to wake up the sleeping pair so she could pay the cabby.

Exiting the vehicle, Sirius let out a slow yawn, gray eyes attempting to blink the bleariness away. His feet seemed to almost drag on the ground as moved up to the sidewalk and out of the street. “Where are we?”  
  
“Crailsheim,” Hermione replied back after closing the cabby door and rapping the roof to signal it was okay for him to take off. Walking to the other vehicle, she leaned into the open window, paying him before turning to look at the men who appeared like half-asleep zombies on the sidewalk awaiting her instruction.

She couldn’t help but notice the similarities her best friends shared with their fathers, both of each who were using another to keep them supported as they slow blinked in her direction. “Come on, in you go,” she gestured to the heavy wooden front door that lay a couple yards from the group. “We’re staying here tonight. Albus is supposed to have set up some rooms, said the owner owed him a favor.”

Upon entering the ancient looking building a large hand painted mural greeted them upon the back wall. It was a silhouette of a Hag with golden scripture underneath that read ‘The Hag’s Kiss.” Either side of the mural was an opened entrance to what appeared to be an empty pubhouse behind them. Various wooden tables littered the seating area in no logical order. Lining the wall were several large wooden kegs and behind the well-stocked bar was a rather short man who was standing upon a rickety chair running a damp cloth against a metal stein. He glanced up to watch them enter the tavern’s main room, setting the metal stein upon the bartop as he turned to face them more. “You must be Dumbledore’s lot. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“Our time table adjusted. International Portkey can be quiet finicky,” Hermione gave a small shrug with her offered explanation as she approached the bartop, a sleepy half-smile on her face as she approached the perturbed tiny man.

“Trouble with the Portkey? hrm.. What kind of wizards did he send?” the tiny squat man muttered in question, his thick black mustache twitching at them before he withdraw his wand from his pocket. His dark beady eyes surveyed the group before him, taking a mental count of how many people were checking in. “Two rooms should fit you all,” he said as he began to twist his thin wand in an intricate series of knots, causing a gold trail to be left in its wake that was magically weaving together in front of him to take the shape of a thin skeleton key.

“Three, actually,” came the sleepy voice of Arthur Weasley from behind her. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, brow furrowing just slowly. “An unwed witch can’t be expected to share a room with wizards,” he explained to the barkeep who was giving him a quizzical look before letting out a large yawn, gesturing to Hermione.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Hermione interjected quickly.

“I insist, Hermione. We shan’t have any wizards think you impure for sharing a room with other men,” he maintained, causing a deep blush to creep upon Hermione’s cheeks.

The little barkeep, not wanting to press further into the conversation with the group who he deemed properly mad based on their attire, simply created a third key before sliding them across the cleaned bartop. “Tell Albus that he will owe me for the extra room,” he muttered before his inhuman yellow eyes flashed up to Hermione.

Nodding her head, she extended her hand to curl around the skeleton keys. “Thank you, I’ll let him know.” Sliding the keys off of the bartop and she turned around. “I guess you three can share a room then?” extending a single key towards the trio of redheads as she raised a thin brow in question. Silently reaching out Fabian took the key, nodding his head in thanks.

“I guess that leaves me with Potter and Black,” Mundungus said, reaching out to pluck one of the keys from her grip. “Fair warning boys. I like to sleep in the buff.” Unabashed, Dung playfully twirled the key around his index finger.

Sirius glanced over to James with wide eyes before back to Hermione, who just shrugged with a playful grin. “I’m sure they won’t mind, Dung,” she offered with a slight giggle to her voice before glancing to her wristwatch. “Alright. Let’s get some sleep. And meet back here by ten am?” she glanced up, earning a collective nod from the group.

All of the rooms were up the stairs to the left of the bar, and each skeleton key was colored to match the door it corresponded to. Gideon, Fabian and Arthur’s door came first, it being a deep forest green. Across the hall was Hermione's, which was painted a lovely shade of periwinkle that reminded her of the gown she wore during her fourth year. Waving goodnight to the group, she slipped the key into its lock and eased open the door.

As the heavy wooden door pushed open, Hermione heard the noise of wood sliding across the stone floor. The room was dimly light, only the faint flicker of candles burned against the wall on scones. In the middle of the room sat one large bed, with an armchair flanking either side, and connected to the back of the room was a small bathroom. The room was clearly magical, as the furniture was able to change to what best suited the needs of the guest for the night for the night. Shutting the door behind her, Hermione toed out of her trainors, leaving them by the foot of her bed and she hung her messenger bag from one of the bottom posts of the bed. 

The trip had been beyond exhausting, but she was in desperate need of a shower. Muggle train in 1979 was efficient, but quite dirty. And of course she still needed to wash the sex away from her earlier romp. Fishing her wand out of her pocket she flicked it towards the candles and slowly the brilliance of their luminescence began to grow, filling the room with a bright glow. Setting her wand down on the foot of her bed Hermione peeled away the layers of clothing like an onion; one by one they made a small pile on the floor beside her trainers.

As she made her way to the restroom, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to how surreal the events she was thrust into were. During her time at Hogwarts she had become best friends with two boys and often went on dangerous adventures to save the wizarding world with them. Their years fighting for Harry’s life, and the belief that all lives shared equal importance helped shape them all to become the people they were today, the good and bad traits. Even now, when her relationship with Ronald was so uncertain, part of her craved to be back in the Gryffindor common room sitting on the couch squashed between the two men she considered to be family. Back to a time before their lives became so damn complicated, and certainly before her romance with Sirius.

As here she was now, thrust twenty years in the past with those same two boys’ fathers, going on a dangerous mission, and although rescuing Moony would not save the Wizarding world, it would put pieces into play to help with the overall success of her mission. Complicated wouldn’t even begin to hold a candle to the mess that Hermione found herself in.

Although, could it even be called her mission anymore? What would happen when her month was up? She had twenty-eight days to get the puzzle pieces lined up for the original Order so they could carry on this mission and make it out alive. Turning on the faucet, Hermione lifted the tap to have the water redirect out of the shower head. As it sputtered to life she lifted her hand to test the temperature before sliding into the tub. Drawing the curtain to prevent the water from leaking all over the stone floor, Hermione lifted her face so the hot spray beat against her face for a moment while she tried to collect her thoughts.

Since her arrival two days ago, she really had not had much time to think beyond the immediate actions taken. Her hands lifted to rub against her face, fingertips pressing into the sockets of her eyes as a heavy breath was released. If Hermione was being honest, for the first time in her life, she felt rather uncertain about what she was doing. She was now in a relationship (at least she was fairly certain she was) with her best friend’s Godfather, who also happened to be twenty years older than her, although by all technicalities in this timeline, she was older than him by about a month.

Turning her back to the unforgiving spray of hot water, Hermione wiped the extra water from her eyes before they cracked on. Finding a small bottle of shampoo and conditioner tucked into the corner along side a bar of soap, she made quick work of cleaning herself from the day’s adventure, paying extra attention to scrub the train germs away from her lower half before the shower was shut off.

A thick black towel was wrapped around her chest, the bottom hem resting against the tops of her thighs as she moved out of the bathroom. Wet hair clung to her back as she left a trail of wet footprints across the floor from the bedroom to her messenger bag. She pulled out a pair of black knickers and an oversized fuzzy jumper, dressing quickly to combat the chill the summer breeze offered against her freshly showered skin. Her wand was picked up and after a quick drying spell to her curls, she allowed herself to crawl into bed.

Hermione half-debated finishing up her chapter in her book, but knew that sleep would be needed more than a second read through Germanic Runes Uses in the Early 16th century. Waving her hand towards her wand on the foot of the bed, it floated lazily towards her open palm. Placing it upon her bedside table after extinguishing the candles she sunk into the feathered mattress, allowing the rapture it created upon her aching muscles to settle her mind just long enough to drift off to sleep.

* * *

**June 8th, 1979 - Crailsheim, Germany - 04:30**

_Hermione stood behind the barred gates of a Ministry lift, only the occasional sound of the lift creaking could be heard. She looked around, trying to see if anyone was around her, but she found herself completely alone. As the Ministry lift chimed upon arriving at its intended floor, the rickety gates were magically opened. Before her was an all too familiar floor. Ink black tiles covered every inch of wall space, ceiling and flooring._

_The flickering blue-white light from the torches lining the windowless walls eerily created a long shadow from her person as she moved off of the lift. The back door at the end of the department’s hallway stood ajar, which Hermione knew was a breach in protocol. If any unauthorized personnel came to this floor it could very well mean a catastrophe._

_Her bare feet padded against the cold tile flooring, the silken nightgown she was wearing trailing on the floor behind her with each step. Despite the crisp air she knew the ninth floor to have, Hermione felt no chill across her exposed skin. As she grew closer to the door, a soft murmuring voice could be heard, lulling her to find the source of noise on the abandoned floor._

_Reaching out she pushed the heavy black door open to reveal the entrance chamber inside. The circular room, which she knew to normally hold twelve handless doors, only held one one directly across from her. In place of the missing doors were hundreds of white candles, all in various stages of their lifecycle burning a soft blue light which shimmered across the black tile floor._

_The voice was coming from the door, and although she knew that only trouble came from entering the Department of Mysteries, she felt compelled to seek it out. As she entered the room the door behind her slammed closed with a loud thud and she spun on her heels towards the source of the noise behind her only to find the entrance to the room missing._

_Despite her racing pulse, Hermione felt tranquil as she turned away to look back to the beckoning door across the room, and with no hesitation she moved to push it open._

_Behind the door was a large rectangular room that was equally as dimly lit as the one she stood in. In the centre of the room stood a raised dais--the raised archway that took Sirius’ life on that fateful night in 1996, three years ago. Or was it seventeen years from now? Hermione’s brow furrowed as the question flitted across her mind, her body frozen upon the top step that lead down to the dias._

_‘You made it.’_

_The voice pulled her out of her confusion, and brown eyes struggled to focus on the figure who stood before the archway, the tattered black cloth that hung from the stone fluttering against the shoulders and back of the unidentified figure._

_‘I knew you’d come for me.’_

_Hermione took a tentative step lower, her heart gallop behind her chest like an almost painful rhythm. Who was this? How did they know her? With each step closer to the centre of the room, more of the figure began to come into focus. First his shoes, mahogany dragonhide boots, and then the pin-striping on his deep purple suit, and slowly his face. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat._

_Sirius Black stood mere yards from her, except he was just as he was on that fateful night in 1996. Weathered, but beautiful. As his crooked smile fell upon his face, the campfire smoke eyes shimmered. ‘Come here, Little bird.’_

_Extending his arms open in a welcoming gesture Hermione could not help but smile at the use of his nickname for her. Moving quickly she ran down the top steps to the man in the centre of the room. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug as she reached him, her face crashing against his chest. He smelt the same as he did in his youth, tobacco, leather and cedar, but it was so faint, as if washing away. Her nose pressed into his chest as her eyes shut tight. ‘Sirius, what are you doing here?’_

_Sirius’ arms wrapped around the witch, pulling her close as one hand went to the back of her head while the other encircled her slender waist, sliding his fingers across the silken fabric of her nightgown. Leaning down his lips could be felt pressing softly against the crown of her head._

_‘I’ve been waiting for you.’_

_Hermione’s brow furrowed slightly before she tipped her head up at him quizzically. ‘Why?’_

_‘You’re supposed to be with me. Remember?’ The hand on the top of her head slipped down, rough fingertips brushing across her cheek as he cupped her face in his hand._

_Just as she was about to nod, Hermione heard her name being shouted from across the door. Jerking her head away from Sirius, her eyes landed on Harry and Ron who stood at the entrance she had just come through, wands withdrawn._

_They were searching for her, using their wands to illuminate the darkened chamber, and as their eyes swept the chamber they passed right over Sirius and herself. Moving down the steps they fanned out, calling her name as she moved around the door._

_‘Harry…Ronald. I’m right here,’ Hermione shouted, beginning to slip from Sirius’ grasp and just as she moved to reach for her friends, she felt Sirius clasp her hand to prevent her from moving too far away._

_‘Hermione. Don’t go. If you leave I’ll disappear,’ his voice pleaded._

_She looked between Sirius and her friends, unsure of what action she could take that would make their worlds connect. Just as her mind began to swirl in thoughts of how she could just make Harry and Ronald aware of their presences in the room, the archway began to emit a bright light. Her free hand rose up, trying to block the rays of light as they spread out across the room, quickly blinding her vision from the death chamber. As she struggled against the light to see the fading images of Harry, Ronald and Sirius, she felt a chill run down her spine. It was as if instead of warmth from the rays of light, they only brought ice with them, and for the first time since entering the Department of Mysteries, Hermione's skin felt icy cold._

Hermione’s eyes shot open as a breeze from the opening of her door washed over her skin. The room was still pitch black, but the faint light that fluttered into the room during the brief moment it was open provided enough light to let her see the silhouette of Sirius entering her room. “W-What are you doing?” she whispered out, her voice shaky from her dream.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Moving across the room to the end of her bed, he let his knees sink into the mattress before slowly crawling up towards Hermione. “Why are you awake, Little bird? I thought you’d be sleeping.”

She held open the covers, allowing Sirius’ lithe frame to slide up next to hers. “I was.” Rolling onto her side away from Sirius as she let him snuggle up to her back, his arms encircled her waist and he spooned her beneath the fluffy comforter.

He nuzzled against the back of her neck as his arms slipped beneath her jumper, letting his hands brush against the soft warm skin across her lower abdomen and soft planes of her stomach before setting into a loose hold about her middle. “Not going to kick me out? Wouldn’t want others thinking I’ve stolen your untouched flower,” he teased against the skin on the back of her neck, his hot breath washing over her.  His hips moved forward just slightly, causing his groin to brush up against her arse.

Hermione let out a sleepy snort, reaching back to swat at the top of his head. “Say that again and I’ll definitely be kicking you out,” she warned. When one of his hands reached up to capture hers that was resting upon her shoulder from her attempt at hitting him, she laced her fingers with his, smiling at the intimacy of the simple gesture. Sure they’d have shagged, but it was moment like this, the hand holding, the cuddling made her push back the feelings of inner turmoil.

Sirius tugged her body as close as possible, the tops of his thighs and legs pressed against the backs of hers. As his head found a nook between the mattress and her hair, he nuzzled in relishing in the scent that was distinctly Hermione, wildflowers and honey. “Goodnight Hermione,” he whispered softly, his thumb stroking softly against the side of her hand.

“Goodnight Sirius,” she returned.

The beating of his heart thumped a steady beat against her back, his stroking in time with his breath and before she realized it she had drifted back to sleep. The rest of the night’s sleep came with no more confusing dreams. It was as if Sirius’ embrace kept her grounded to being with him in that moment.

* * *

**June 8th, 1979 - Crailsheim, Germany - 09:00**

Hermione gently shut the periwinkle door behind her, making sure to cushion the sound from echoing off the stone walls and floor with a quick charm. She had woken up an hour prior and after tossing and turning next to the sleeping Sirius she decided lying in bed and counting the bolts in the ceiling beams was not a productive use of her time. She dressed in deep burgundy button-up tunic, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows exposing the purple-pink scar on her forearm and various nicks and cuts that had healed naturally post-skirmishes. A tight pair of black leggings were worn underneath the long tunic, which easily tucked into her favorite pair of dragonhide boots. She was not dressed to impress, but rather in non-restrictive clothing that would be ideal in a firefight. The wild mane of curls was pulled back from her face in two half braids that tucked magically into her curls.

She made a mental note that the hallway was as quiet as church despite the fact they were all supposed to be up and in the tavern within the hour for breakfast. She took the stairs two at a time upon her descent to the main floor. As her boots touched down upon the dirty stone floor she was pulled from her thoughts by her name being called from across the room.

Against the far left wall of the tavern Arthur Weasley waved in her direction. Before him on the table were several plates filled with all of the trappings that would make up a traditional German breakfast; sliced lunch meat, various rolls, cheeses, a bowl of soft boiled eggs and marmalades. Arthur had forgone the punk attire from yesterday, thank Merlin, and wore an orange and brown plaid button up. “Good Morning Hermione,” he mumbled over a spoonful of egg.

Smiling at the sight of the runny yolk dripping off his chin, Hermione took her seat across from him, laying her wand down next to her place setting as she reached for the teapot. “Morning Arthur.”

She couldn’t help but think that Ronald clearly got his messy eating habits from his father as she sat across from him in silence as he continued to shovel mouthful after mouthful of food in, barely taking a moment to breathe. “Sleep well?”

Arthur looked up, nodding his head before setting his spoon down to dab at the sides of his mouth with the napkin, completely missing the glob of yellow yolk stuck in the stubble on his chin. “Exceptionally well actually. I’d forgotten what sleep was like without little feet in the middle of my back.”

Hermione snorted softly into her tea before setting the cup down on the mismatched saucer before motioning to her chin. “Missed a spot.” Reaching out to snag a roll from the basket, she began to tear it into smaller pieces, popping them in her mouth one at a time. “Sirius mentioned you have little ones. How many?” She questioned, although she obviously knew the answer. She yearned to know more about the man that Arthur was before 1991.

“Five boys,” he beamed proudly, setting his napkin down in his lap after cleaning the mess off his chin.

“Blimey, five boys? Got your hands full, huh?”

“Suppose you could say that,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair as his hands wove together behind his head in a casual lean. “Molly and I always wanted a big family. I got two brothers, and Molly’s got the two dunderheads with us.” Cornflower blue eyes flashed up to Hermione’s face instantly. “Don’t repeat that last bit.”

“What bit?” She feigned ignorance with a small laugh, watching Arthur twist in confusion.

“The part where I….Oooh! I see what you did, cheeky witch,” he scolded before leaning forward in laughter as he wagged his finger in her direction.

“That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve been called in a while,” she admitted, blushing under his playful praise as she picked apart the roll onto the saucer surrounding her teacup.

Arthur’s kind eyes watched her shift uneasily under his praise, and without hesitation his hand went out to rest against her forearm. “That’s not true. Sirius has said plenty in your benefit. Alastor might not have been kind, but he did not outright wish ill upon you when he came back from the Rosier mission. That’s saying something,” he offered, giving her a sweet half-smile.

Her heart sputtered beneath her chest; this was the same Arthur she knew. So kind, willing to cure anyone's melancholy if he could. That smile combined with the beautiful blue eyes reminded her so much of Ronald. Despite their pisspoor timing at romance, she still loved Ronald deeply, and part of her had believed (before Sirius) that they might eventually end up with each other once they had both worked their youth out of their systems.

“Oh stop it,” she breathed, dropping her roll to pat the top of his hand in a friendly gesture before she pulled her hands away from his grasp and dropped them into her lap. “Tell me more about these five boys. What are their names?”

He didn’t press further, instead taking the hint that discussion of her own life was off-limits. Respecting the boundaries Hermione had set, he moved his hand back to his side of the table. “The oldest is William, but we call him Billy. He’s eight. Smart as a whip that one is. Next is Charlie, he’s seven,” Arthur began, his eyes taking a far-away appearance as he rattled off the names and ages of his growing brood. “Percy’s two, He’ll be three in two months’ time and let me tell you, the little rascal does not forget to remind you of this given the chance. And the twins, Fred and George, just turned one back in April.”

Hermione nodded, leaning forward to place her elbows upon the table in front of her, hands folding under her chin holding her head up as she listened to him. “Twins? That must have been a surprise.”

“We suspected. They run in the Prewett line.” Lifting up his teacup to his lips, he took a small sip of the hot liquid before raising his brows towards Hermione. “And you? No wedding band, so I suspect no husband?”

Hermione leaned back in her chair off the table, letting her eyes fall to her naked ring finger before backup to Arthur. “No. I’m only twenty. Figured I got a couple years left before I should feel pressured to find the one,” she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

“So what you have going on with Black isn’t …. well… serious?” His nose wrinkled slightly at the pun.

Hermione’s brows lifted in surprise, watching Arthur as he began to put some cold cuts and cheese upon the plate in front of him. “I...well..w-wh---”

“Oh you don’t think I didn’t notice you two all cozied up on the train?” he questioned, glancing at her over his nose as he tilted his head down while began to assemble a small makeshift sandwich upon his plate. “I’m also certain the whole traincar heard your little romp.”

Hermione’s hand went up to her face to cover her blush that burned its way across her cheeks. “Oh Gods, you heard that?” she croaked before spreading her fingers so her eyes could peek at Arthur through them.

“Oh it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Molly and I quite enjoy a quick shag on holiday,” he offered before taking a large bite of his sandwich. Chewing thoughtfully before swallowing down the large bite, he continued. “Don’t avoid the question though, are you just having fun with him, or is that something more?”

Slowly lowering her hands away from her crimson cheeks, she carefully picked up her teacup, brown eyes dropping to study the milky liquid. “I’m not sure. Honestly, it’s a bit more complicated than just wanting to be with him.”

“Because we’re going to get Remus?”

 _‘Well, that’s certainly one of the many reasons.’_ Her brown eyes lifted from the teacup and her head nodded. It was the easiest explanation she could give the man, considering the truth was so muddied she was not sure she could begin to explain it to her future father figure.

“Remus certainly could be seen as a complication, especially if you’d never been around the pair together,” he mused. “But until you see them together, you won’t know what the rest of us do.”

“Which is?”

“Sirius and Remus are like oil and ice,” Arthur explained, nodding his head as if the analogy make perfect sense.

“You mean fire and ice?” Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion, her head cocking ever so slightly to the side.

“No. They’re not opposites. In fact, that is exactly their problem, they’re too similar.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed in confusion, trying to understand. The Remus and Sirius she had known in her youth did not seem similar. While at Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place Remus was kind, patient, and although highly intelligent never once did he boast. He was the first professor who did not praise Hermione for her intelligence, but rather her character. And during the course of the four years she had come to interact with him, he seemed aloof to their group, as if not wanting to give himself fully for fear of letting Harry slip between his fingers once more.

Sirius, although not an disagreeable man, certainly wore his heart on his sleeve. For all the reservation Remus held, Sirius seemed unabashed. He was passionate, outspoken and very much like the man she knew now, with the exception of the bitterness that presented in his adulthood that was most certainly attributed to his time in Azkaban.

Although, she couldn’t very well tell Arthur that the two men she had known were so vastly different in personalities, now could she?

Sensing her bewilderment at his explanation he continued. “Oil and ice are both slippery, right?” he questioned, sliding his hands together to create a visual for her. “They struggled together because there was nothing between them to ground their relationship. Sirius has always been a bit of a--” his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right word.

“Philanderer?” Hermione offered.

“Casanova,” he corrected, chuckling at her brusque admission. “He is what Molly refers to as a free spirit, he needs someone who’s not wandering like he is.”

“And Remus is wandering?”

“You know, how about after you meet him you tell me what you think,” he suggested before his sparkling blue eyes moved to look over her shoulder and a hand was raised in a wave. “Over here,” he called out into the nearly empty tavern towards James who had just descended the stairs.

One by one, the recovery team made their way down the steps from the second floor and took their place around the rickety old wooden table. Despite the short amount of sleep they all had gotten, they all looked wide awake, for they all knew that within the day they would be facing off against Death Eaters to bring their friend back home.

* * *

**June 8th, 1979 - Naturpark Frankenhöhe, Germany - 19:00**

They had spent a little over an hour trekking through the lush fields and dense forest found in the Franconian Heights Nature Park, and no Death Eater stronghold was in sight. Hermione lead the pack, the map of the Nature Park held firmly in one hand as the other shielded against the overhead sun.

“How much longer? My loafers are giving me blisters,” Dung whined for what seemed like the millionth time she entering the forest.

Dropping her hand from her brow to pinch the bridge of her nose a heavy breath was released. “For the last time, I don’t bloody well know,” she said, spinning around to shoot daggers at the man. “And maybe if you had changed, like I suggested before we left the Hag’s Kiss, your feet wouldn’t hurt.”

The permanent frown that had been on Dung’s face since they left Ottery St. Catchpole seemed to deepen. “Well maybe we should have waited for Alastor.”

“Hey, come on Dung, this ain’t so bad. Fresh air is kinda nice.” James approached Dung from the side, his hand going out to clasp the man upon the shoulder in a friendly manner, obviously trying to lessen the tension that had built between the two.

Rolling his shoulder the instant James’ hand came to rest on it, Dung’s cantankerous stare was directed towards him. “If I wanted fresh air I would have stayed in England. Not traipsing around some forest in Germany under the direction of an inexperienced bint.”

Sirius had been in the middle of a slow approach from the rear of the group, a lit cigarette hung loosely between his index and thumb as he flicked the ash towards the forest floor. At Dung’s harsh words, his head snapped up to look at the oldest member of their group, his haunches raising up as he prepared to defend Hermione, but before he could act Hermione had thrown the map in Dung’s direction.

“ _Oppugno!”_ and suddenly it came to life. Flying across the space between the pair, the map wrapped itself around Mundungus’ head as if trying to snuff the breath from his lungs.

Dung’s hand rose, desperately trying to scratch the map away from his face while his muffled yells grew louder the longer the paper stay firmly in place around his dome. Gideon and Fabian, despite their laughter, flanked the struggling Dung on either side, attempting to help him remove the enchanted map.

“Stop struggling, Dung,” Fabian managed through his laughter, trying to grab ahold of the flailing wizarding.

“Mmmneft Oft!!” was garbled out from beneath the map as he thrashed around, throwing his arms in haymaker punches towards the helping hands of Gideon and Fabian.

The twins backed up as the struggle turned violent, giving a wide berth to Mundungus as he darted forward in the direction of Hermione.  Side-stepping the blinded man, Hermione tried to hide her smile as she watched Dung stumble across the field. When Arthur called her name in a scolding tone she looked over to to him, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug. “What? He was being an arse!”

Suddenly, the sound of a loud groan accompanied by a hollow thud could be heard ringing over her shoulder. Whipping around, she watched as Mundungus fell to the dirt floor as he bounced off of what appeared to be a ward. The ripple of his impact caused blue waves of magic to materialize across the ward’s surface.

Waving her hand to where Mundungus lay, the reversal to the jinx was cast, and the map quietly returned to plain paper, no longer fighting to stay lodged around his head. Moving forward Hermione approached the edge of the ward, fingers going out to touch the glasslike protection that surrounding what appeared to be an empty forest clearing in front of her. As Dung pulled the map from his face, yelling in frustration at his assault Hermione’s eyes flashed at him in warning to shut his mouth.

Arthur approached to Hermione’s left, helping Dung off the ground before reaching out to tentatively touch the ward with the tip of his wand. “Well you found it,” he quipped to Dung before glancing over to Sirius and James who moved up to his left.

The tiny hairs on the back of her hand rose in response to the magical field protectively hiding what they all assumed was the castle. She couldn’t be sure exactly what type of protective enchantment was placed before her, but judging by the glasslike appearance of the shield, it had been cast so long ago that the strength was weakening. Waving her wand across the surface in a figure eight, a silvery rope of magic left a trail against the glasslike surfaces, spreading out slowly across an 8x8 radius in front of her, exposing images of ancient runes in its wake that made up the protective enchantment.

“Sirius, Gideon, Fabian and Arthur. I’m going to need your help.” Her eyes were glazed over slightly as the calculations of the spellpower needed to break the enchantment swirled inside her mind like the eye of a storm.

“Why not all of us?” Sirius questioned as he glanced over to Hermione, his ironwood wand withdrawn and at his side.

Hermione turned around, glancing around to the group of wizards who were all eyeing her expectantly. “The ward is only going to lower for members of the Sacred-Twenty Eight,” she began to explain as she move over to Arthur to guide him into position two feet away from Sirius, before moving Fabian and Gideon on either side of them, each wizard an equal distances two feet apart. “This is familial ancient magic, the Germans were notorious for using magical detection runes the guard their communities and homes. Even though we-” her hand gestured between James, Mundungus and herself as she took several steps back to give those placed in front of the ward room. “--have magic, it will know we are not of an Ancient home. We would only reawaken the strength of the enchantment.”

“So Germans didn’t like Muggle-borns either?” James questioned, reaching up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Back when this castle was built there were not a lot of Muggle-born wizards or witches,” Hermione corrected, glancing over to James. “And it wasn’t that all German wizards did not like them, it was that the Selwyn family did not. You cannot make a generalized statement like that. Think about it, do all Pure-Blood families dislike Muggles? No. There’s bad people everywhere, regardless of what type of family they were born into.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at her explanation, glancing over to Arthur, who stood immediately next to him. “Fit and smart,” he said in a half whisper, his brows wagging.

“If she’s so smart, then why is she with you?” Gideon questioned from his other side, snickering with laughter.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione crossed her arms over her bust as she cleared her throat, eyeing the line of men in front of her. “She is right here and can hear everything you’re saying,” she interrupted, lips pursing together.

“So what do we do?” Fabian questioned.

“Push your wand forward, kind of like you’re stabbing someone in front of you and twist counter clockwise to finish the the motion,” Hermione demonstrated the movement in front of her. “The incantation is ‘intermissum’.”

“Intermissum,” Sirius repeated, letting the Latin roll of his tongue experimentally before he nodded, glancing between the men to either side of him. “On three?” he suggested before glancing between the group to gather the consensus before beginning. “One….Two….Three.”

In union the four shouted the spell as their wands thrust forward, penetrating the ward with a loud crack that echoed off the trees around them. From the tips of their wands, the blue glasslike ward began to fracture. The magic emitted from the wands ignited the runes as the fractures spread across the dome, beginning to break off in large chunks. One by one the illusion of the field faded with each pane that fell, and as the push of dissolving magic blew a heavy breeze back upon the recovery team.

Several yards before them stood an ominous castle. The dark gray stone was a stark contrast to the lush green field surrounding it. A single tower sat in the middle of the structure. Twisted dying ivy crawled up the surface of the crumbling fortress, and on either side of a dirt walkway that scorched the earth  before the group were several overgrown bushes. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as the castle’s full image materialized before them, and a chill ran across her skin in response to the foreboding presence it held, causing the baby fine hairs on the back of her neck to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to give you all another chapter early this week. I’ve hit a good spot in my writing and couldn’t wait to hear what you all have to say. I think we all know who is going to make an appearance this next chapter, and even I am internally fangirling over him showing up to join in on the fun. :) Let me know what you guys think!
> 
> So much love to my Beta (Islndgurl777) and Alpha (KnitKnitRead). Without either of them helping guide this story, it wouldn't be where it is now. <3  
> ~ MM


	15. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.
> 
> The next 2-3 chapters will be dealing with some pretty intense story line. Nothing I wouldn't deem mature, but I figured I'd give you a warning. Without giving away the plot I am going to refrain from listing ever TW. (I can say it is not sexual related though.)

**June 8th, 1979 - Selwyn Castle - 19:30**

The setting sun gave no favors to the uneasy feeling that had burrowed under Hermione’s skin since the castle came into view. As twilight began to lull the sun to sleep, the setting sun only created elongated shadows that pulled the height of the castle further into the pink and purple sky. The group’s impulse to rush the fortress faded almost instantly, and instead, they all stayed perfectly still. The crumpled map twittered in the soft summer’s breeze and was the only sound that filled the space between their group. 

“We need to move back to the tree line,” Hermione’s voice cracked over the silence, and she glanced away from the crumbling architecture back to the line of men in front of her. “Whatever you do, do not cross the ward line.” Her words held warning, and although not specified she knew that they were aware it was possible some adverse effects could occur if they did. 

Accio-ing the map to her hand as she backed away from the ward line, she took careful steps until she was several feet away from it and she allowed herself to turn her back to the castle. Moving quickly to the tree line immediately to her left, a heavy breath was released once she was hidden behind a thick oak. She had seen the pictures, she knew what the bloody castle looked like, but the images did not do the ancient structure justice. If an inanimate object could feel evil, then the castle was positively wicked. 

The group moved quickly, and without complaint, to slide into the thicket beside her. The only noises that could be heard was the rustle of the wind through the streets and the crunch of leaves upon the forest floor. She licked her bottom lip as she glanced around the somber faces of the group before sucking lightly upon her front teeth in thought. “If the wards were still up, it is likely there is a Caterwauling, or an Intruder Charm on the grounds.”

“No shit.” The sarcastic quip came from Mundungus, his hands fisting into his pants pockets in a silent protest. “How do you supposed we’ll be able to get around that? Can’t very well run face-first into one of those.”

Brown eyes flashed over to the man, shooting daggers in his direction as her brow furrowed. Before a response to his snark could be given, James beat her to it. “Merlin, Dung. Calm the bloody hell down. It’s not like she put the enchantment up herself.”

“Calm down? We’re fifteen thousand kilometers from home, in the middle of a forest with some fucking dark wizards inside the castle we need to get into. Fuck all, I will not calm down!”

As the pair began to row, Hermione leaned back on the trunk of the tree, letting the harsh bark bite against the tender skin on her back. Her hand rose to pinch the bridge of her nose as she tired to collect her thoughts.

“What do you expect we do, then, Potter? Walk up to the fucking door and knock and ask if Lupin can come out and play? If there is a Caterwauling on the grounds, the moment any person walks across they’ll know!”

Of course she knew how the enchantment worked; she had been on the receiving end of that particular spell the night she, Ronald and Harry appreciated to Hogsmeade. Even now the memory of the high-pitched screams sent a ripple of panic across her skin. The enchantment was designed to activate the moment a person who was set as an intruder crossed the threshold. Suddenly Hermione gasped, the flash bulb of an idea flared within her mind. “Shut up, both of you,” she interjected quickly.

James’ mouth hung open in an unreplied retort, hazel eyes drifting from Mundungus over to Hermione, and his brows raised at the far-away  appearance the witch took as she began to pace in front of the tree trunk. “Uh...is she alright, Pads?” he questioned hesitantly, glancing over to Sirius who was leaning back on a tree opposite of Hermione.

“She’s thinking,” he mumbled out from behind clenched teeth that were currently nibbling upon his thumbnail nervously. 

“Sirius, James.” Brown eyes lifted to look over to the pair. “You two are going to patrol the grounds and see if you can tell how many Death Eaters are inside,” she began, gesturing behind her to the castle.

“And how do you expect they’ll do that without setting off the alarm?” Mundungus questioned, his arms crossing across his chest as a sour expression worsened over his features.

Unable to help herself, a small half smirk tugged upon the corners of her lips as she eyed the confused pair. “They’re not going to patrol like they are now. They’ll go as Padfoot and Prongs,” she said confidently.

James’ expression slowly morphed into that of shock at her words, and his head snapped so quickly to the left to look at Sirius that his glasses temporarily went askew. “You told her?!” he hissed in disbelief. 

Sirius looked between Hermione, James and the rest of the group like a deer in headlights, his mouth opening and closing several times as he debated what exactly he could say to his friend who clearly felt betrayed their secret was out. “Prooongs,” he began, elongating the vowel in the nickname to draw it out in a friendly manner. “Come on, mate. I didn’t have to tell her outright for her to figure it out.” Only slightly a lie. “Besides, Lil’s knows! She’s known for ages, and you told her.” His right hand extended, index finger pointing at him as his brows raised in defense.

“Know what?” Arthur questioned, watching the exchange with a confused expression plastered over his features.

“James and Sirius are Animagi,” Hermione explained in a soft whisper as to not disrupt the exchange between the two best friends. 

“I didn’t tell her! Peter ran to her when he couldn’t get rid of his tail fifth year,” he reminded his friend as he swatted at the accusatory finger. “Don’t try to change the damn subject. You told!” he emphasised, hazel eyes darting around the group before landing on Hermione. “And now everyone else knows. Good Gods, you’re a Ministry Worker. Am I going to be arrested?” he rambled, his hands going up to push his messy black locks back in frustration.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden hysterical ramblings of James, who had begun to pace between Sirius and Hermione, his fingers twisting nervously as his rowdy hair. “James.”

“I can’t go to Azkaban! Would you imagine what the Prophet would say? An Auror being sent to Azkaban. What would Lily do? Oh Gods, what would my parents say?!”

“James….JAMES!” 

Turning quickly towards his name, hazel eyes were wide with shock and anxiety as he froze his pacing.

“I’m not telling anyone, and nobody here will, right?” she questioned as she looked around the group who nodded and mumbled words of agreement. “Now stop. You can’t go out there acting like a nervous puffskein.” When he began to deflate from the ball of energy Hermione reached out her hand going to touch his shoulder. Leveling her eyes with James a small half smile fell upon her lips in an attempt to calm him. “If I reported you, I’d have to report him,” her head jutted toward Sirius who was still perched on the tree, watching his friend unravel with a wide grin of amusement. “And I can’t very well do that, now can I?”

“She doesn’t want to give up the excellent shag,” Sirius smirked.

“Oh please.” Rolling her eyes as she pulled hand back from James’ shoulder as her head shook. “I’ve had better,” she retorted.

“Is that so, Little bird?” Sirius questioned, his eyes twinkling at the unspoken challenge. “Pretty sure you weren’t complaining yesterday on the train.”

“Ew...stop. Just… no.” James shook his head, eyes closing tight at the mental image.

“As amusing as this display is, can we get back on track?” Fabian’s deep voice cut through the banter, long lean arms crossing over his chest as he cocked a brow to Hermione.

Nodding, Hermione reached up to push a stray curl behind her ear. “You two will patrol the border. While in your Animagus form you should not set off the charm should you happen to cross into the ground,” she explained, glancing over her shoulder and around the thick tree trunk before looking back to Sirius and James. “Try not to engage with anyone, and please do try to be careful.”

“We’re always careful,” Sirius drawled as he moved off of the tree and began across the circle towards James and Hermione. Leaning down his lips brushed a soft kiss against her cheek before his arm went about James’ shoulders. “Come on, mate. Let’s go have a bit of a looksy,” he said with a devious grin before beginning to walk away from the group, ushering his friend with him.

Hermione’s arms crossed over her bust as she watched the pair saunter off into the thicket of trees. Moments later the distant sounds of a familiar bark echoed around the trees letting her know the shift had occurred and they were off.

“They’re dogs?” Mundungus asked in surprise.

“Sirius is a dog, James is a stag,” Hermione explained, fingers anxiously tapping her wand against her biceps as she tried to listen to see if she could determine the location of Sirius and James based on the rustle of the forest.

“Figures. Of course Black is a dog,” he muttered under his breath as he slumped against a tree, hands twisting his wand between his palms nervously. 

As the seconds ticked by into minutes an impatience fell over the ground. Hermione kept shifting from hip to hip, occasionally peering around the tree trunk towards the castle grounds to see if she could spot the Animagi duo. Behind her the remainder of the group sat in silence, Arthur toeing the dirt floor beneath their feet nervously. “Uh..Hermione,” his voice cracked. “Do you suppose someone should go check on them?”

“And certainly set off the charm? Great plan Weasley,” Mundungus snarked, his eyes rolling. “This was a terrible idea. Sending Black and Potter to do recon. Those two wouldn’t know a Death Eater from a tree trunk.”

“Oi, Cool it, Dung. We get it, you’re nervous about being here. News flash, we all are,” Fabian growled out, moving off of the tree he was reclined against, fingers curling a tighter grip around his wand. “You being a total twat does not make the situation any easier.”

“If we  _ all  _ know this is a bad idea, why in the bleedin’ hell are we here?” Dung questioned in a hiss, glancing around the small group, eyes darting from person to person who refused to met his gaze except Hermione and Fabian.

“Because one of our own is in there. Remus risked his life to help the Order, and we have a duty to bring him back!!” Hermione snapped, her shoulders tense, and the small hairs on her arms standing up in response to the fight instinct. She unwound her arms to fist her hands at her side, the grip on her wand tightening.

“I very well did not ask him to go risk his bloody life. Sense of duty be damned, this is just plain fucking stupid.”

“So what the fuck do you suggest we do then, Dung? Just let him stay prisoner to those bastards?” Fabian snapped, his lips thinning.

“Oh now someone cares to ask my opinion. About bloody time. Well, seeing as no one forced him to go, then maybe we--”

“I would be very careful with your next sentence Mundungus,” Hermione warned as she leveled her wand with the center of his chest, brown eyes narrowing.

Mundungus opened his mouth, his own wand lifting to point towards Hermione but before any reply could be uttered the high-pitched scream of a broken Caterwauling charm pierced the silence. Instantly his hands were thrown up to cup over his ears, eyes slamming shut as the echo of the scream reverberated off the trees surrounding him.

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, her body involuntarily hunching over as she too cupped her ears. “Shit!” Spinning around she moved to the tree line, trying her best to not give away her location as her eyes darted across the grounds, trying to locate Sirius and James. The birds that had begun to settle in the trees immediately surrounding the estate took to the air in protest of the invasive noise.

Seconds later the spell was disarmed, and an eerie silence replaced the screams. The background noise of forest was silence, not even a breeze blew through the treetops. Hermione gulped, brown eyes darting around the grounds. “Come on, Sirius,” she whispered after a heavy breath was exhaled.

Suddenly, a crackle of magic could be felt in the twilight’s air, and moments later the tall-tale sound of spells came from inside the castle. The windows illuminated with each incantation that was cast, causing the grounds to pulse in a strobing pattern from the firefight in side.

“Fuck this. I’m not waiting anymore,” Gideon broke the silence, pushing off the tree quickly, his wand at the ready as he moved past Hermione. His twin joined him within seconds, the pair moving briskly towards the front of the castle. 

Hermione’s mind reeled, trying to catch up to what was happening before she moved after them, glancing over her shoulder to Mundungus and Arthur. “Come on!” The brisk walk quickly turned  into a sprint the closer they came to the castle. The sounds from the spells of battle grew louder with each step, fueling the adrenaline rush that began to burn across their skin in anticipation.

Gideon and Fabian cast an explosive spell in unison, sending the heavy set of double doors flying off of the hinges. Hermione froze seconds behind the pair, watching the double doors soar across the darkening sky before landing three yards to her left with a loud and heavy thump. The sounds of the spells being used inside were temporarily deafened by the explosion blast. As she eyed the splintered wooden heap on the lawn, a flash of bright purple light whizzed by her head, so close the delicate skin upon her cheek sizzled from the proximity. Gasping at the narrow miss, her head darted back in front of her to the now exposed entryway.

The twins had already run into the mayhem, sending spell after spell towards the left side of the room as she pushed their way in. Hermione wordlessly cast a shield charm, extending her wand to keep the protection up as she moved into the room, carefully stepping over the rubble. Averting her eyes from the left of the room, where green and red spells were lobbed in her direction like a hailstorm of arrows, she looked to find the Animagi to make sure no harm had come of them.

Sirius was crouched over an upturned table, his wand held tight in his grip, black hair wildy mussed from the skirmish. James stood several yard away deflecting spells as he attempted to advance upon the Death Eaters opposite of him. Once they were out of this mess, Hermione would be sure to give them both a proper tongue lashing for their foolhardy behavior, but for now she was just grateful no harm had come to them. 

Her shield wavered down as she had scanned the room, just enough of an adjustment from its location to provide a clean shot for a gouging spell to connect with her left shoulder. On impact Hermione let out a small scream, and stumbling back from the impact she corrected her shield. The adrenaline coursing through her veins helped curb the worst of the pain, and in its place she felt her anger begin to rise. 

Moving quickly she alternated between firing Expulso Curses and Stupefy as she advanced towards the center of the room. She moved with precision, dodging and countering the spells sent her way until she stood shoulder to shoulder with Fabian and Gideon. The three worked in silence, not even needing to verbalize the incantations sent as they cleared a path for Arthur and Mundungus to enter behind them, shielding their bodies from harm. 

On the receiving end of those spells stood two Death Eaters. Although not dressed in the robes and masks, it was easy to spot their allegiance by the inky tattoo upon their forearms. Igor Karkaroff stood proud, despite him being backed into a corner, as he fought off the attack. He was still as tall and thin as she remembered him from her fourth year, and those piercing blue eyes. How could she forget the way they made her skin crawl when she was on the receiving end of his stare? They were still as brilliant as she remembered, but instead of the cold and unnerving nature they held in the future, they seemed to dance with wickness each time a spell would land on its intended. His smile was cracked wide across his features, exposing the yellowing teeth that lay beneath. “ _ Serpensortia Trio!!”  _ With his wand pointed at the floor before their feet, three snakes emerged from the tip of his wand.

They were as round as a soccer ball, several yards long and the scales so black they almost blended into the stonework on the floor. The counterpart to the curse was hissed by Karkaroff without hesitation, and the three anacondas began to slither towards Hermione, Fabian and Gideon with the intent to strike.

Hermione dodged the first attack of the snake that approached her, moving swiftly over an upturned armchair to seek shelter as the snake lunged again, its wide mouth and sharp fangs piercing the cushion, narrowly missing her hand on the other side. Fabian easily countered his attacking serpent, booted heel slamming into the head of the magical reptile as it lunged at him and missed, its mouth slamming shut from the impact of the boot before he set slicing hex was sent to the serpent, the spell penetrating through the thick black scales easily and chopping the snake in two. Instead of rich brown blood, a wispy smoke began to rise from the slain beast, its scaly body began to appear as if it was burning from the inside out until it disappeared into the air.

Gideon was far less composed in the face of the serpent slithering in his direction. “No no no no noooo!” His voice cracked over the sound of spells exploding around the room as he doubled back over the rubble, clambering to get away from the anaconda as it sped up to strike. “I don’t fucking do snakes. Someone get this thing!” he shouted, casting a poorly aimed Reducto over his shoulder as he fled towards the back of the room.

The blue blast of light narrowly missed James, who was advancing upon the other Death Eater, the pair sparring with ferocity. As the stone floor exploded next to his feet, he jumped, hazel eyes leaving the target for just a moment. It was long enough for the portly middle-aged wizard he faced to cast Incarcerous. Instead of thick ropes which the spell should have produced, thin shoestring-like binds magically wrapped themselves around James, causing him to stumble over the rubble of the room and fall to his knees. The spell was weak, obviously the caster was not practiced in the arts of transfiguration, but it was enough to immobilize his opponent.

The portly wizard let out a wicked laugh as he perched himself higher upon a mound of broken stones from the floor, his wand pointed directly at James as his beady eyes glittered with malice. Poised to strike, and completely ignoring the rest fo the room, his mouth opened but before a single syllable could be uttered a blast of brilliant scarlet light erupted from across the room. 

“ _ Expelliarmus!” _

Arthur Weasley stood tall between two crumbling pillars of stone that held the second floor of the castle afloat, his wand extended towards the Death Eater. The spell connected, causing him to soar back three feet to smash against the back wall of the castle, his wand clattering to the ground from the impact. 

“Nice shot, Artie!” Sirius poked his head around the upturned table, face cracking into a wide grin. Pushing himself off the floor he climbed over the table and he began to advance. As Gideon moved past him, Sirius swished his wand through the air with finesse. “ _ Vipera Evanesca,” _ and with a pop the large anaconda disappeared.

Hermione fell upon her backside, booted feet kicking against the chair in front of her to send the heavy furniture against the serpent who was struggling to dislodges its fangs from the cushion. It hissed in response to the weight of the chair as it toppled upon its head, crooking it back at an odd angle. Before she could cast her own charm to rid the room of the beast, Sirius was behind her, and with a swish of his wand, the last of the black serpents was gone. 

Arthur had crossed the room quickly, beginning to help untangle James while Fabian sparred with Karkaroff, deflecting and sending spells back with the powerful Death Eater, while Gideon and Mundungus were advancing upon the portly wizard who was scrambling upon all fours to pick up his wand.

“Igor,” the fallen wizard snapped, fingers curling around the shaft of his wand before he stood up, turning around with it drawn. “Igor, fall back. We need to get the others! Too many,” he snapped, flashing his icy blue eyes towards his comrade before beginning to take his retreat down the hallway a few yards behind him. Hermione did not immediately recognize the gruff Death Eater, but his voice betrayed him. She would have recognized that thick German accent anywhere. How could she forget the awful threats he had made while looking for Harry in Mr. Lovegood’s home, or the way he laughed cruelly while inflicting unimaginable pain on him?

Igor began to fall back, carefully taking steps backwards until he had reached the hallway. The Recovery team had advanced, moving across the room toward the darkened corridor, not ready to give the Death Eaters their retreat. “By the time you reach him, it’ll be too late.” His venomous words matched the bite of the serpents he unleashed earlier. Quickly his wand’s aim changed from the group to the wall that stood next to him. “ _ Bombarda Maxima!” _

Hermione’s eyes widened, watching the wall at the beginning of the hallway burst apart in a loud explosion. She crouched to the floor, her bones rattling from the blast as bits of stonework and dust ricocheted toward the group. The explosion had tossed those closest, Arthus, Mundungus and Fabian, skidding on their backsides halfway across the room.

Her ears rang a high-pitched protest as she slowly cracked her eyes open to look around the room. A thick white dust hung in the air, showering around the group and leaving evidence of its existence upon their hair, clothing and skin. James and Fabian were a few feet behind her, bent at the waist with their hands over their ears, trying to recover from the blast, while Sirius had moved in front of her. It had happened too fast, she did not even notice his swift move to protect her. Instead of curling to protect his face and torso from the blast, he had spread his arms wide with the intention of taking most of the impact from the blast’s shrapnel so it did not connect with her.

Scrambling forward, Hermione moved around his body quickly, small bloodied hands touching either side of his face as she sank to her knees to be level with him. “You’re a bloody stupid man,” she whispered, brown eyes darting across his face to assess the damage done. His cheeks, forehead and neck were all covered in small gashes and scrapes, nothing a little Essence of Dittany couldn’t fix. A particularly large piece of stone must have hit him on the right ear, as a small trickle of blood was forming a slow but steady stream from his ear down his neck, mixing with the grime from the explosion, but thankfully it looked superficial. Her hands on his cheeks directed his head from left to right, surveying the damage as he winced and hissed in response to her ministrations.

“And you’re an ungrateful girlfriend.” Reaching out his right hand went to her cheek, while his left came to rest upon her hip (still gripping his wand), his thumb dragging across the cuts upon her cheek as his gray eyes took in her own battle wounds. “You should be saying thank you.”

Hermione’s eyes dropped from his face, fingertips running down his neck to his chest touching lightly against the black shirt he wore, which was now covered in tiny holes and tears. Her head shook at his words, glancing back up to his eyes briefly before looking past him to the others in the room. “Everyone alright?” Pushing up off the floor, she moved from Sirius’s gentle grasp, brushing her hands across the tops of her thighs to rid them of some of the blood and grime before adjusting her grip on her wand. 

“Never been better,” James offered from across the room where he had removed his glasses. The right lens was cracked, and likely badly distorting his vision, but not irreparable. 

Arthur simply nodded towards her, his body trembling from the aftershock of the battle as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. Hermione knew the feeling well, as she had the same reaction the first couple of times she had fought for her life while at Hogwarts. While in the moment, the pain was numbed, but once there was a lull, the adrenaline overproduction made her shiver like she was trapped in the snow without a parka to keep her warm. 

Mundungus was at the far wall, having stalked away to lick his own wounds. he twins were simply shedding their vests and rolling up the sleeves of the button downs, obviously preparing for more combat.

Once the visual check of the group was completed, she moved around Sirius, who instead of getting up off the stone floor decided to fall back on his arse to catch his breath. Approaching the caved-in hallway, she reached out, attempting to pluck a stone from the pile, only to have several more fall in its place and threatened to collapse in on her. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself, tongue darting out to run across her bottom lip in thought.

“Either of you two feel like telling us what the fuck happened?” Gideon questioned, glancing over to Sirius and James with a cocked brow as he untucked his button-down from his trousers

“That is a very good question, Gideon.” She glanced over her shoulder to the prone Sirius before over to James with a quizzical expression.

“Well, we were doing what you said. Just going around the perimeter,” James began, placing his glasses back on his face and adjusting the frames just slightly so the cracked glass wasn’t directly in the center of his vision. “That tall bastard spotted me and decided they needed to do a little hunting to pass the time. Next thing I know we’re trying not to get our fur blown off. Do you know how hard it is to dodge spells as a thirty-one stone stag?”

“Do you know how heavy a thirty-one stone stag feels when he tramples over you?” Sirius pushed himself off the floor, reaching back to touch his shoulder blade. “Pretty sure I got hoof prints embedded in my back.”

“And you did not think to come get us? You didn’t need to come charging in, wands at the ready,” Hermione questioned.

“And have them attack you? I’ll take my chances with a deranged deer--”

“Stag,” James corrected quickly.

“I’ll take my changes with a deranged  _ stag _ -” Sirius mumbled the correction, his eyes rolling. “-as my partner than risk getting you hurt.” 

If Hermione were a cat, the hairs upon her spine would have bristled in visible protest. “Excuse me?” Turning her back to the rubble wall which blocked their entrance to the rest of the castle, her hands went to her hips.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Sirius voice held an unsure tone, not quiet grasping why she had suddenly gotten angry over his admission. 

“I am more than capable of handling myself in a duel, Sirius Black.” Her voice was stern, lips thinning out just slightly. “Furthermore, If I remember correctly I am the---” Her dressing down of Sirius for his chivalrous was abruptly cut off when from behind the rubbled wall came a guttural scream. The noise made her stomach drop, and all thoughts of correcting Sirius’ notions of protection faded from her mind and were replaced with one singular thought: Remus. 

“Moony,” James and Sirius uttered in unison and both men advanced to the crumbling wall, beginning to take fistfulls of rock and tossing them over their shoulders to make a path through the crumbling castle. It was as if in their frenzy both men had forgotten that they were wizards. As the screams grew louder, the frantic energy to get to him filled the room. “I’m going to fucking kill those heartless BASTARDS,” Sirius growled as his bloodied fists pounded against the imposing rubble. 

Hermione gathered her wits, moving away from the blocked corridor, doubling back down the back wall towards two doors she had seen during the fight. Yanking the first door open she found a closet packed full of richy coloured furs.  _ ‘Fuck...this won’t work.’ _ Moving towards the last door she hustled to yank it open to reveal a study, the wall facing the front end of the castle lined with tomes and texts, while the wall opposite held a tapestry outlining the Selwyn Family Tree. Walking into the room she ran her hand along the woven fabric before roughly yanking it from the wall to let it crash down on the floor. If her calculations were right, opposite of this wall would should be the hallway that Karkaroff fled down. She had to be careful, as the structure of the old Castle was already compromised by their firefight earlier. She double backed across the room, pushing herself against the bookshelf that lined the wall to get herself as far away from the opposite tall as possible before her wand was leveled at the center of the wall. “ _ Bombarda.” _

The explosion shook to the foundation, even rattling stones in the ceiling loose and sending them unceremoniously clambering to the floor as dust and smoke from the explosion filled the room. Hermione felt books topple around her, jiggling off the shelf as the castle’s foundation groaned in protest to the new hole created in a supporting wall which held up the second story. She winced as a particularly large tome landed on her shoulder, the sharp corner slicing a shallow scrap across her collarbone as it made its descent to the floor. 

The blast had obviously done its job of creating a new passage into the hallway, for which Hermione was grateful, but she had neglected to tell the rest of the team her plan in the haste to get to Remus. Busting into the room Sirius and James appeared, wands drawn in preparation to attack whomever was the source of the blast.  _ “Diffindo,”  _ James had jumped the gun, not seeing who was through the cloud of smoke before sending the charm through the haze, and as the bright green spell light up the smoke, Hermione had barely enough time to duck out of the way as the charm sliced into the bookshelf and text behind her.

“It’s me!!” Hermione yelled as she crouched with her hands up, squinting to see through the dust. “Merlin James, you’re supposed to fucking look before you attack!” When no further spells were sent her direction, she pushed herself up off the floor, the palms of her hands cutting against the broken stone scattered about the room. 

“Hermione?” Sirius questioned, advancing into the room and with a quick wave of his wand a large gust of wind blew through the room, pushing the hazy air through the newly opened corridor. Gray eyes assessed the precise damage his girlfriend had created and he couldn’t help but grin. “Brilliant.” 

Sirius moved quickly across the room, not bothering to wait for orders, disappeared through the hole. As James moved to follow Hermione shouted, “Wait!” She glanced over her shoulder to the opened doorway were the Prewitt twins stood, wands drawn and at the ready. “James, someone needs to stay with Arthur and Dung.”

“What? Hermione, no. Remus is my---”

“He is your friend, and I’ll have a hard enough time making sure Sirius doesn’t act rash when we find him,” she began, motioning to the twins to go after Sirius before looking over to James who stood in the middle of the room, the annoyance he was feeling growing more visible on his face.

“No bloody way am I staying back!”

“This isn’t a request James,” she said sternly, crossing the room. “Keep them safe. If I know anything about Death Eaters it’s that they never work in pairs.” As she made to move past him to the opening her movement was halted by an hand upon her shoulder.

“Be quick. We need to get him home.”

Hermione looked over her shoulder, and as hazel and brown connected she knew exactly what he meant. Remus had been with Death Eaters for an undisclosed amount of time, and the horrors of what he’d been through were likely far greater than any of them could fathom. He needed to bring him home to not just heal his wounds, but also cleanse his soul. She gave him a single nod before moving briskly out of the room.

Climbing over the rubble, she moved quickly into the darkened hallway. The torches that were previously lit had been blown out by the gust of wind that Sirius conjured in the other room. Instead now the only lighting came from the various doors that had been thrown open by Sirius, and the twins. The hallway was roughly thirty feet in length, and each side of the corridor was lined with heavy wooden doors every five feet. The garbled screams of pain were amplified the closer she moved down the hallway. Her brisk footsteps turned into a light run as she moved down the hallway past Sirius and the twins who were alternating opening doors in search of Remus. 

Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest the closer she came to the end of the hallway, as the sounds of torture were amplified the closer she got to the last two doors which sat across from one another.  _ “Homenum Revelio,” _ with a quick snap of her wand, voices from inside the room to her left could be heard.

“Antonin, it appears we have a guest.”

“You hear that? Sounds like your friends finally decided to show up, boy.” A low cruel baritone laugh came shortly before the sound of the casting of the Cruciatus Curse could be heard. Remus’s guttural scream echoed off the stone walls around her, reverberating in her ear as the curse ripped through his body like water through a canyon. Hermione knew the feeling far too well. It was worse than one thousand white-hot knives, more excruciating that any hex, charm or curse. It was as if beyond the physical damage felt, the curse would sink its way into your soul, latching onto the very fiber of your being to make sure that the pain was never forgotten.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose in response to the familiar tingle of dark magic in the air and without waiting for the men to follow her lead, she waved her wand in front of the door and it burst inward, sending it rattling to the floor in a burst of uncontrolled magic. She hadn’t intended on barging in, but the normal concentration she felt in the face of danger was gone. Instead the raw primal need to pull Remus back from the brink of madness induced by torture was present. 

The door had fallen in a small hallway, only a couple feet long, and inside the room what she could make made her stomach lurch in response. There were no windows to provide natural light for the room, instead the room was illuminated by various blue balls of energy that floated against the ceiling. The intention, she knew, was the disorient the person trapped inside. Deprive them of the ability to recognize days from nights, and in Remus’ case, know when the next full moon was coming.

A putrid smell immediate wafted in her direction as she took a step into the room, boots finding their grounding on the wobbly door as her stomach retched in response. As her brown eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting, she could make out the floor which was covered in scraps of rotting meat, all in various stages of decomposition.  Against the left wall she could make out the broken figure of a young Remus Lupin prone upon the dirty floor. His chest heaved up and down in an attempt to regain his break as the effects of the Unforgivable left his body. 

Thick metal chains hung from the ceiling and connected to cuffs around his wrists. Even from her spot a few feet away she could make out the painful cuts they had made against his wrists where the metal had cut into his skin during his struggles. She could remember seeing the faint outline of these scars on his wrists back at Grimmauld Place many years ago, but she had just assumed they were from his transformations, as when they peaked out from beneath his jumper he had been quick to hide them. He only wore a pair of brown trousers that were badly tattered, and if she was being honest, she wasn’t sure they had begun their life as the deep dirty brown they appeared to be now, as hints of lighted tones were scattered across the article of clothing.

Hermione moved forward quickly, her arm lifting to block the smell from her nose as she advanced into the room. Her footing slipped just slightly when her boots hit the floor, which was slick from the rotten meat, but before she would up-end herself, she felt a pair of strong hands come just under her shoulders to right her. Gideon and Fabian had moved into the room seconds behind her, and by the looks on their faces, she knew that they meant business.

Gideon moved around her, as Fabian had been the one to prevent her fall. He wasted no time beginning a duel with Dolohov, who stood against the far wall. The room was roughly the size of Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom back in Hogwarts. Remus was chained to the wall at the front of the room, his purpose appeared to be entertainment, for on the opposite side stood several tables and chairs which were littered with half eaten dishes of food. 

Next to Dolohov was Corban Yaxley, his white blonde hair glowing blue in the room. Gideon easily sparred with the two wizards until Fabian joined his brother, each taking a Death Eater on solo as Hermione moved over to Remus. Kneeling down, she felt the sickening squish of rotten food against her knee as reached him. Reaching out, her small hand touched his arm gently to alert him of her presence.

The instant her fingertips touched his sweat-slick skin, Remus recoiled, letting out a ferocious growl in warning as yellow-gold eyes flashed open. “I’m to help!” she whisper hurriedly, pulling her hand back to hold them up in front of her in a posture of surrendering, head ducking to provide his inner wolf the needed display of submission. Brown eyes cast down to the floor as she gulped; the rational side of her knew it was risky to have approached him so soon after an Unforgivable left his body, but her heart told her she needed to save her favorite professor--no, her friend.

She could feel his eyes bore into her, watching her every move as she sat frozen in front of him. Slowly her eyes lifted and when they connected with his, she felt her heart thump. She hadn’t seen those particular set of irises since her third year when he had lost control under the full moon. Except there was no full moon tonight; his wolf took over control of Remus to prevent harm. In moments of extreme pain it was not implausible for the werewolf persona to take control of a person in an attempt to shield them from harm.

She watch as Remus sniffed at the air around her, assessing her the same way a wolf would a newcomer. She could hear the battle rage on behind her, and she knew the twins would need help if they planned on taking down Dolohov and Yaxley before backup arrived. “I’m going to let you out,” she gave in a soft warning before lifting her wand to point towards the ceiling.

Remus watched the wand warily, a low-throated rumbling from the back of his throat in a warning as his eyes narrowed. Clearly the wolf was not a fan of wands after being on the receiving end of them for so long. Just as he made a move to snatch the vinewood from Hermione, Sirius could be heard over her shoulder.

“Moony!”

He moved quickly into the room, nearly tripping over his feet as he scrambled to his friend. His wand was dropped to the floor as he reached out to wrap his arms around the chained Marauder who was just a few feet away from him. Hermione turned her head just in time to see a bright burst of red light erupt from beyond Fabian and Gideon, and land directly in the middle of Sirius’ back.

Sirius fell to his knees instantly, his jaw clenching tightly even as scream ripped out of his throat. The involuntary convulsions overtook his body, sending him prone to the floor as he withered in pain. Remus reacted instantly, for even with Moony in control he would have recognized his best friend and ex-lover anywhere. Roaring in protest, he pulled against the chains that bound him, his chest lurching forward while his arms snapped back as he fought to get to Sirius.

Lifting her wand quickly as she moved to Sirius, Hermione sent a slicing hex towards the chains that bound Remus to the ceiling before she dropped to the stone floor. She needed to get him under cover, knowing it would take a few moments for the aftershocks to settle and until then it left Sirius exposed for more damage. Accio-ing an overturned table in front of his body, she used the furniture to shield him as best she could from the duel.

The length of chain dragging noisily against the stone as Remus made his way towards Sirius, dropping to his knees opposite of Hermione, putting Sirius between the two. “Padfoot, you bloody idiot. What...What were you thinking?” he question hoarsely as his dirty hands clasped around Sirius’ shoulders to ease him up against the table.

Hermione watched as the familiar scent of his friend washed through his senses, the yellow-gold eyes faded to reveal the beautiful set of jade green that was unique Remus. 

The tremors coursed through Sirius’ body, causing his teeth to chatter between words. “You di-didn’t say go-goodbye,” he stammered. “Had to m-m-make sh-sure you were oka-ay.” Despite the effects of the curse, he was able to force a smile up to his friend, trembling hand raising to touch the side of Remus’ cheek, the rough tips of his fingers running across the length of a new scar that ran from his ear to his chin.

Remus just shook his head at his friend, green eyes smiling brightly as the corners of his lips tugged up. Reaching out he put a finger to Sirius’ lips to silence the man before he forced himself to talk more. He knew the difficulty of recovering from that curse, and if they thought they were going to make it out of this room safely, he needed to reserve his strength. 

Sirius just smiled up to his friend, letting his hand fall from Remus’ cheek to grasp his hand away from his lips. As his long fingers curled around his hand, he gave a gentle squeeze. Moony looked like shit; he’d obviously been neglected for a while, but it was a small bit of comfort to know that the same old Remus was still inside. Hell, even once they got back home he might be okay with the turn of events that occurred in Sirius’ love life, right? Nothing changes a person more than trauma, and he had been so fucking upset before he left.

Hermione’s eyes moved between the the reunited friends and the Prewitts who still kept the Death Eaters at bay. Ricocheted spells burst around the room gouging and blasting the stone walls and wooden furniture around the room. When a slicing hex, a particular speciality of Dolohov, nearly missed their table, Hermione let out a little noise in protest, dropping low. “We need to get out of here. You can reunite once we get Remus back to the tavern,” she yelled over the noises of combat, glancing over to the pair.

Sirius, who was still leaned back against the table, nodded and as his mouth opened to respond Remus was suddenly on him, swooping low to press a firm (and most certainly not platonic) kiss on his lips. Hermione’s eyes widened at the display, watching Remus’ free hand moved to cup Sirius’ cheek while the other stayed locked with Sirius’ at his chest. 

She knew that this was a possibility, that Sirius and Remus would find their way back into each others’ arms, but her heart had hoped it wasn’t true. In all honesty, it was easier, wasn’t it? If she wasn’t mixed up with Sirius it would make her going back to 1999 that much more simple, and wasn’t that the best solution for everyone? Simple.

Sirius remained still beneath the kiss, like a deer in headlights, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He was glad to see Remus was alive, but his romantic interest in him was still gone. Even without Hermione, he wasn’t interested in attempt to rekindle a relationship what just didn’t work. Uncurling his hand from Remus’ he pushed upon the man’s chest, breaking their liplock. “R-Remus...Moony, I--”

“Do you think you can get Sirius out of the room?” Hermione questioned, no longer looking at the pair as the threat of tears prickled behind her eyes. If she looked at them, she knew they would betray her and fall.

“Get m-me out?” Sirius questioned, frowning as he looked over to Hermione. Why wasn’t she looking at him? His hand reached for her arm but she clearly had anticipated his move, for she shuffled away to the corner of the table to peak over, letting those beautiful brown curls he liked to run his fingers through mask her features. “Little B-Bird, no.”

Hermione didn’t wait for Remus to respond; the longer she stood next to them the more it felt like that band that had begun its stranglehold on the center of her chest tightened. Pushing off the ground a quick shield charm was cast in front of her as she moved across the room with a quick stride. Behind her she could hear Remus and Sirius struggle to leave the room. Remus was not in the best shape to force a struggling Sirius from the room, but she couldn’t bring herself to kick him out herself. Blinking rapidly as she advanced across the room, two large tear drops slipped down her cheeks and her hand rose to brush them away quickly. She needed to keep her head in the moment; this distraction would get the better of her and she already knew how deadly that could be. Her wand was snapped toward Dolohov as she moved next to Gideon, and a knockback jinx was sent to Dolohov who was mid-cast and the Death Eater went flying back into a heap of destroyed wood a few feet behind him. 

As Gideon let out a small whoop in triumph as his opponent was hit, a large smile plastered across his face despite his physical exertion from his duel. Reaching out, his large hand clasped on Hermione’s shoulder in a silent thanks as he took the moment to catch his breath. 

“Finally decided to come play?” he questioned as he panted.

“Didn’t want you boys to have all the fun.” A fake smile was returned before she glanced over to Fabian and Yaxley. The moment she looked to the pair she saw a beautiful purple-blue stream of magic target a turned-over wooden table between herself and Fabian. Before she could react, the table exploded as if struck by lightning. The recoil from the blast sent the group flying back.

As her back smashed into the left wall, the air in her lungs was ejected with such a force it made her eyes begin to burn in protest. Gideon and Fabian were both against the right wall, temporarily dazed by the cascading jinx. Her ears rang, deafening the sounds of Sirius’ protest from the hallway, as he tried to make his way back into the room to verify the source of the loud blast was not from the enemy. 

Struggling to catch her breath, Hermione gasped for air as the adrenaline coursing through her veins pumped her body full of the needed pain relief. In her left shoulder a metal bolt from the table had embedded itself deep beneath her skin. Her back would likely contain large bruises and her knees and palms would require more than Dittany to heal properly, but all of this was distant thought as she watched Selwyn cackle with laughter.

Yaxley began across the rubble of the room, kicking chairs and tables out of his way as he approached the twins, his wand withdrawn and the intent of what he would cast next clear as day on his face.

She would never make it off the floor in time to send a disarming spell, and any offensive spell sanctioned by the Auror Department for proper takedown would require the caster to be upright and the incantation said with loud clarity. She knew what spell she needed to use, one that had become strictly forbidden within her department, one specifically designed for enemies. 

Selwyn leveled his wand at Fabian, who was coughing the air back into his lungs as he scrambled to find his fallen wand. “ _ Avada Ked---”  _

“ _ Sectumsempra,”  _ Hermione managed through her gasps, vinewood pointed to Selwyn’s upper half. The first slice from the curse penetrated the skin on his chest, gouging from nipple to rib and the blood pulsed through his shirt. The second is what sealed Yaxley’s fate. Sectumsempra was an uncontrollable curse, for the caster could not determine the exact nature of the sword-like slashed that would appear on its victim. Running diagonally across the side of his neck a deep wound appeared, and blood from his jugular artery poured a steady stream of crimson. 

She had seen the effects of this curse before, and Hermione was no stranger to death at this point in her life, but she couldn’t help but feel stunned as she watched the light flicker from his eyes. He collapsed to the floor, a mere two feet from Fabian, falling face first into a pool of his own blood as if in slow motion. For the first time since entering the chambers the room was silent. Fabian and Gideon watched the crimson liquid spread across the floor, edging close to their boots before they pulled back. 

Fabian was the first to move off the floor, rushing quickly across the room to Hermione. Two rough hands lifted Hermione by her shoulders as he glanced over to Gideon. “I got her. Go.” This obviously was not a request by his tone. Moving quickly Fabian ushered the three from the room, his wand withdrawn and at the ready in case Dolohov woke up from his injuries. 

Hermione fell into position between the two tall wizards, and despite their injuries they moved swiftly down the length of the darkened corridor. Even on the opposite end of the hallway the sound of a skirmish could be heard echoing down towards them. Back-up had arrived, and from the sound of it, they were not willing to let their captive go without a proper fight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the 1 day delay. :) This chapter took a lot longer to write than I had originally anticipated. The ‘worse than one thousand white-hot knives is a direct quote from GoF that I couldn’t help but use. :) Thanks JK! And for those who are curious, The spell Sirius uses is inspired by ‘Gust of Wind’ which can be found in 5e D&D Spellbook. (Nerd Alert!!)
> 
> I'd like to give a shout out to the last couple people who have been leaving reviews on my story. You are all wonderful and even just a simple review helps boost my excitement to write! Thank you calaguala, LCB, zillah1199, skyeryder01, & Akela3. <3


	16. Old Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.
> 
> Mind the warnings posted on the last chapter

**June 8th, 1979 - Selwyn Castle - 21:00**

The room was chaos. James, Arthur and Sirius were outnumbered by five masked Death Eaters, and without a wand there was little Remus could do in the fight beyond hide behind a pillar and try to avoid being caught in the line of sight. When Sirius and Remus had entered the room James was ecstatic. Sure, Remus looked like shit and Sirius had obviously been hit with a nasty curse, but they were one step closer to being whole. If only Peter had come, then it would have been a proper Marauder reunion.

It had only been mere moments into a bone-crushing hug between Remus and James when they were thrown apart by a well-cast blasting curse. A group of masked Death Eaters stormed through the blown down front door and began to attack without mercy. Mundungus Disapparated faster than a Seeker mid-dive for the Golden Snitch in the Quidditch World Cup, which surprised none of the Order members in the room.

The Prewitts entered the foyer before Hermione, wasting no time to double-team the closest masked wizard to their right while Hermione flanked left, narrowly missing a purple hex that was cast in her direction. Pressing her back against a crumbling stone pillar, she felt the magic whiz around her. “Where’s Dung?” Hermione shouted over the firefight to James, who was a couple yards to her left, reflecting spells back towards a short squat Death Eater, who appeared already out of breath from the physical exertion. 

“Got spooked. He tucked tail and ran,” James shouted, lunging forward to sent his own Reducto towards the wizard before moving forward with the precision and finesse similar to the fencing Olympians Hermione would watch on the telly as a child. During their years of running, Hermione always thought Harry made spellwork look natural in the face of danger, but James made it look effortless. Where Hermione had to spend hours revising and practicing to prove her abilities, it appeared the Potter men were born with the gift of magic. It was clear that the Potter bloodline was far more talented than Hermione would ever be able to fathom.

“Bloody coward!” Remus shouted, ducking low as the stone pillar behind him burst apart as a curse slammed into the stone, causing the ceiling to tremble and begin to break at its sudden loss of support. He moved quickly out of the way of falling stone slabs, away from Hermione and colliding directly into the chest of a Death Eater who was mid-retreat from Arthur. 

Hermione’s eyes widened as she watched Remus stumble back from the collision. Without a wand he would stand no chance, especially in his weakened state. She moved quickly, jumping over the large slabs of stone as she raised her wand, pointing towards the Death Eater and Remus. FUCK! She couldn’t get a clear shot, not while Remus stood there, frozen under the malicious gaze. “Remus, MOVE!”

As the Death Eater jutted his wand out, connecting the tip with the broken flesh on Remus’s torso, she scrambled quicker, her nails scratching against the stone as she hoisted herself over. No, this couldn’t happen. They needed him, the Marauders needed him. Hell, thirteen-year-old Hermione needed him! There was still so much left for Remus to accomplish, and dying in the middle of a Castle in Germany did not fit those plans.

Before her toes could hit the floor on the other side of the object, a large spectral floating hand appeared from her left. The hand cut through the air quickly, and landed against the Death Eater with a force so powerful it sent him crashing into the wall. The silver mask was jostled askewed on his face as he crumpled to a heap on the floor, his wand slipping from his unconscious hand and rolling towards Remus’ bare feet.

Hermione’s head snapped quickly in the direction of the caster, and let out a heavy breath at the sight of a disheveled Arthur Weasley. The fierce look of determination on his face was one she had only seen a handful of times, but she knew that it meant business. Arthur was Gryffindor through and through, and it was in moments of battle that it was clear why he had been sorted there so long ago.

Remus bent low and snatched up the wand at his feet, testing the feeling of the wand in his grip for a moment before he glanced over to Arthur and he nodded a silent thanks. He moved quickly, wand outstretched as he advanced into the mayhem. “Oi! Asshole!” A jinx was thrown at the back of the Death Eater Sirius had been sparring with, causing the recipient to grow a large set of antlers that pierced through their black robes.

Arthur wasted no time in casting a sticking charm to the fallen Death Eater, as to prevent him from re-entering the battle in case he woke up. Surveying the room his eyes fell on his brothers-in-law in the far corner. Fabian and Gideon were each sparring with two Death Eaters and despite being outnumbered, they looked as if they were winning judging by the tattered robes and blooded footprints from the masked wizards. 

“Hermione!” Arthur shouted over the blasts, pointing in the direction of his kin before motioning for her to follow. If they wanted to fight dirty, he’d make sure to repay the favor. Arthur and Hermione moved around the perimeter of the room quickly, using the pillars to conceal their movement as they approached from behind. Arthur was the first to fire, sending a blasting charm directly in the back of the two Death Eaters Fabian was sparring with, sending the men into a heap of blood and tangled bodies on the floor.

Fabian let out a small whoop in victory, wiping his brow with the back of his casting hand before casting a body binding curse at the Death Eater closest to him that was dueling his twin. As the Death Eater struggled under the curse that prevented him from dodging the spells sent his way, he landed flat on his face, causing his nose to break in a loud crunch. 

“Artie. You’re getting better. Might have to convince Molly to let you come out with us more often!” Fabian joked loudly despite the battle raging on around them as he approached Arthur, who was busy casting charms that bound the fallen Death Eaters with invisible ropes. 

“Honestly, after tonight, I don’t think I want to go anymore.” Glancing up to brother-in-law a half smile was on his lips. He was enjoying the camaraderie, but it didn’t take a scholar to determine that the danger was far too real for the young father’s comfort level.

Fabian let out a short belly laugh, reaching up to brush the red hair that fell in his eyes before he glanced over to Hermione, who stood a few feet away from them, glancing between the fight around them and dialogue between family. “Can you believe it? You might have scared him off, Hermione,” he teased.

With their backs to the entrance to the room they had come through a few moment earlier, Fabian and Arthur never stood a chance. As Hermione turned to respond, just over Arthur’s left shoulder a bright blast of emerald green light cut through the air, igniting the particles of dust that hung low with its dark magic as it soared across the room. She couldn’t even let out a word of warning before it landed.

Arthur was hit, directly in the middle of his back. The burst of green magic enveloped him, surrounding his body for the briefest of moments and almost instantly the light in his eyes was gone. The brilliant cornflower blue faded to a dull gray. There had been no warning, no time to scream, or even flinch. He fell first to his knees, his wand clattering against the stone floor as his arms dropped like lead to his side and then his body collapsed forward. 

Hermione stood frozen as she watched her future father figure tumble lifelessly to the floor in what felt like slow motion. Her heart began to beat a rapid rhythm beneath her chest as the world exploded around her. Dolohov stood at the entrance to the room, his wand leaving a trail of green magic in the air as he watched the Fabian drop to his knees, scooping up the lifeless body of his brother-in-law.

Hermione heard nothing, just the sound of blood rushing past her ears as she watched Fabian succumb to grief and Dolohov cackle with wicked laughter from his vantage point across the room. Suddenly her world began to shake, and she dropped to her knees. The hand holding her wand gripped it tightly, as if afraid to let go, while the other braced her impact on the dirty ground. He couldn’t be dead. He…He  **had** to be alive. The boys were so young, they needed their father. But more importantly, there were still two Weasley children unaccounted for in his and Molly’s brood.

Fabian wasted no time in advancing across the room toward Dolohov, his twin joining him just a few steps behind as they sent a barrage of spells towards Dolohov with the only one word on their mind: Revenge.

Hermione looked over to the fallen Arthur, hot tears cascading down her face as she crawled over to him, pulling his head into her lap as her trembling hands smoothed the soft red hair away from his forehead. “Arthur….Arthur wake up,” she began, her voice cracking as she shook his shoulders gently. His eyes were closed, and his lifeless body limp as he lay prone on the dirty floor. If the room hadn’t seen the Unforgivable land, they just might believe he had fallen asleep.

One by one the Death Eaters Disapparated from the room, knowing the fight was futile. The Order members had begun fighting with a new sense of vigor after witnessing their friend’s fall. Once the last Death Eater Disapparated away from the castle, the Order members moved to Hermione and Arthur. She had pulled his upper half into her lap, trembling fingers running across his cheeks as sobs wracked her slender frame. “Arthur. Please, just wake up.”

“Hermione,” James was the first to break away from the group. His own tears had fallen, leaving streaks upon his dirty cheeks. He reached out, his fingers curling around her shoulder gently. “He’s gone.”

She flinched under his touch, her fingers curling into the front of Arthur’s shirt as her head shook. “He’s okay. He just needs our help.” The rational side of her knew James was correct, but her heart wanted to believe. Because if Arthur was dead, it meant that her whole life would be changed. Her first love and best friend would never exist. If Arthur Weasley was dead, Harry would never fall in love with Ginny. He would never understand what it finally felt like to be loved unconditionally by a mother, because without Ron and Ginny, he would never meet Molly. Grabbing at her wand, she pointed the tip directly to the center of Arthur’s chest and repeatedly attempted to cast a rejuvenate spell, only to have the pink magic fizzle out the moment it was cast. “S-Someone help!” she begged, looking up to the group as large tears rolled down her reddened cheeks. “D-Don’t just s-s-stand there! Help me….Help him!!”

James didn’t move, hazel eyes leaking further as he watched Hermione's fruitless attempts to wake Arthur, and his hand rose to slid through his messy black hair, unsure of what he could do to pull the witch away. He felt a rough hand touch his shoulder, and he blinked up to find Sirius beside him. James took a step back, allowing Sirius to take the lead.

Sirius crouched down, his hand curling around Hermione’s and he gently eased the tip of the wand away from his chest. “It’s okay,” he said softly as his other arm wrapped around her torso, beginning to ease her away from Arthur. “Hermione. He’s gone.”

Her free hand clung to the front of Arthur’s shirt, fingers curling into the tattered fabric as she attempted to resist Sirius, but the fight in her was quickly fading. “Sirius, no...please.” Brown eyes lifted to look into gray.

“He’s gone.” His voice was soft, yet stern. He knew that this was the grief talking, and that his girlfriend knew Arthur was truly beyond anyone’s ability to help. Even the most powerful Healers in the world could not bring back the dead. Gently he eased her away from the body, careful not to provide further harm to it as he stood up, strong arms curling around the witch as turned into his body. He held her close, giving her the support she so desperately needed. He walked them back, taking small steps until they had cleared the circle and he looked over to the Prewitt’s, giving them a small nod.

The pair moved silently to Arthur’s fallen body. Gideon bent low, picking up Arthur’s fallen wand before carefully crossing his limbs across his chest as Fabian stood at Arthur’s boots, his wand withdrawn to cast a careful stream of old magic across his brother-in-law’s body. The spells were a ritual that was rarely practiced in Hermione’s time; it was of the old belief that the soul needed to be released from the body to make its passage to the afterlife. As with most times of turmoil, these rituals were lost to the chaos that war brought. There had been no time to cast these complex spells in the middle of The Battle of Hogwarts, and by the time the dust had settled, everyone was far too deep into mourning to think of the need.

Sirius, James and Remus stood silent to pay their respects as the waves of golden magic washed over Arthur’s body, covering his body like a thick shroud and the filth that had covered his body from battle began to magically dissipate. The golden shroud of magic cleansed his skin before sinking into his body, and for the briefest of moments it appeared he was alive again, a warm glow filling his cheeks and illuminating his skin before it too faded away.

“Take the Portkey,” James said softly, looking to Fabian before down to his brother who was still crouched next to Arthur’s body. “We’ll come to the Burrow as soon as we make it back.”

Gideon nodded, reaching up to brush his hand across his cheek to push his silent tears away. His wand was waved over the body, and a thin white sheet appeared from the tip of his wand and it floated through the air, carefully draping over the fallen frame of Arthur Weasley, covering him from the top of his head to the tip of his boots. 

The brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, their hands coming to clasp one another in preparation to Disapparate with Arthur’s body out of the castle. Fabian raised his wand, floating the covered body to his left and as he reached out, his fingertips brushing across the white sheet more tears spilled down his cheeks. 

“Tell Molly we’re sorry,” Sirius’ voice pulled the twins’ attention over to him, his arms still wrapped around Hermione whose sobs had disappeared, but he could still feel the wet tears soak through his shirt on his chest.

With a single nod of acknowledgment the brothers disappeared into the night, taking the fallen body of Arthur Weasley with them. As the soft pop of their Disapparation echoed in the room, the group remained silent as the shock of the events that just occured washed over them. They’d rescued Moony, but at the cost of another's life.

Remus hung back, his fingers twisting the Death Eater’s wand between his fingers as his jade green eyes let loose his own set of tears. The guilt from the death had already begun to burn beneath his chest, radiating deeper with each thumping heartbeat. Gulping down the noise of a strangled cry he looked up to the group. They were all bloodied and beaten, each and every one of them had risked so much to come pull him from the depths of hell he’d found himself in. “We…. We need to go,” he broke the silence, his voice quivering. “They cast Morsmordre….if--” a shaky breath was taken and he ran his tongue across his lips, taking a moment to not only find his words, but gain the strength to say them. “If we don’t leave soon, they’ll come find us.”

James brushed his own tears off his cheeks and took several deep breaths to regain his composure. “He’s right. Remus, I’ll Side-Along you to the tavern.” Hazel eyes ran over Sirius and Hermione, who still stood clasping one another. “You got her?”

“Yeah.” Pulling back, Sirius gently tipped up Hermione’s face. The pad of his thumb ran across her cheek as he tried to capture her gaze, but she seemed too far away. Moving the hand that had been on the back of her head to her other cheek he said, “Little Bird. We gotta go.” His voice was barely above a whisper, taking on a tone one might use with a hurt child.

Remus frowned as he watched Sirius comfort the bushy-haired witch, his brow knitting as his head cocked to the side. As James approached and grasped his shoulder he turned his attention to his friend, the confusion evident on his face.

James offered no explanation, only pulling Remus close in a warm embrace before Disapparating them both away from the destruction. The pull of Apparition did little to settle Remus’ stomach, which had churned violently the whole fight. When his bare feet touched the grassy patch of earth in the back of The Hag’s Kiss his knees buckled under the weight of their impact and he began to dry heave. 

“Oh fuck, Moons. I’m sorry. I should have asked.” James knelt down beside his friend, his hand stroking comfortingly on his back as green bile erupted from Remus’ mouth. Grimacing he looked away, partly to provide Remus some space while he vomited, but also because if he felt looking he might soon be joining his friend. 

Remus retched a few more times before he stilled on all fours, panting as he calmed down his body from the travel. “Haven’t Apparated in a while,” Remus offered in explanation before slowly pushing himself off the lawn.

James’ arm wound around his taller friend’s shoulder in a side-hug as he began to usher him towards the back door of the tavern. The lights in the building were completely extinguished, save for a small floating blue orb that hung above the back door to let the patrons know how to find their way inside. “Let’s get you cleaned up and we can work on getting you reacquainted with civilized society,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, because despite the pain of Arthur’s death that was still so very fresh, Moony was coming home. Back to where he belonged.

Remus let out a small laugh, his eyes rolling as he glanced over to his friend. “I leave for a couple months and suddenly the Marauders are civilized?” He chortled with a small smirk. “A lot really has changed.”

James’ arm slipped away from Remus’ shoulder as they neared the back entrance to pull the heavy wooden door open for his friend. He allowed Remus to slip inside the darkened corridor before joining him and just as the door swung closed behind the pair, James mumbled his response, “Moony, you have absolutely no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me. *hides*


	17. Elastic Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 8th, 1979 - The Hag’s Kiss - 23:00**

James sat down on the end of one of the three twin beds in the room, his left hand holding his glasses while the other held his wand steady as he cast the spell to repair the broken lense. As the shattered glass knitted itself back together he glanced up to Remus who was still standing beside the doorway, eyeing the closed door expectantly.

He knew what Remus was waiting for. He was waiting for Sirius to come waltzing in and join them. He was waiting for his ex-boyfriend to declare his love for him and apologize for being the right git who broke off their relationship. But James also knew that that moment was not going to happen tonight, and possibly not anytime in the future. 

Sliding his glasses back on his face James moved off the bed and over to the disheveled werewolf and he pulled him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay, Moony. We were all worried.” As he pulled back from the friendly hug, his hands came to rest on Remus’ shoulder, keeping his friend close as a weak smile was given. “We’ve missed you so much. Lils was going crazy trying to keep us in line without you.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s words. Of course he had missed them, it went without saying, but something felt...off. When he’d kissed Sirius back in at the castle, it wasn’t returned in the way he had expected after being gone for months. And now he was off with some woman comforting her? Sure, Sirius was kind-hearted, but truly his loyalties lay with his friends, right? Pushing the confusing feelings aside, he gave his friend’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You should be nicer to her, James. Not many witches would put up with you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mum said I was a catch.” He winked at Remus before moving away toward the restroom door. Flicking on the light he disappeared inside for just a moment, returning with a wet flannel that was being scrubbed across his dirty face. “I wish Pete could have made it. He’s been a wreck since you left.” 

“Why couldn’t he come?”

“Work. He’s actually been kept pretty busy lately. Missing more Order gatherings than before. I tried to tell him to talk to Weathers about it, but he was adamant the old bastard needs his help.” James scrubbed his cheeks raw, getting as much of the dirt and soot off of his face as he could before turning his attention to his hands. “Don’t worry though. As soon as we get back we’ll do a proper Marauder's dinner. Lil’s can make that venison pie you like.” He offered a smile up to Remus who had walked a bit further into the room.

“That sounds amazing actually.” A loud grumble came from his emptied stomach to accompany the sudden pang of hunger he felt the moment James brought up actual food. He hadn’t eaten properly in weeks, and although while in the castle he had grown used to the empty feeling of hunger, he now had a choice and that ache was on the verge of painful.

The far away look Remus took at the mention of a hot meal pricked his heart. As much as he might try, James would never be able to understand the horrors than Remus had been through. The fact that he didn’t go after him sooner weighed heavily on his mind, especially after seeing him in this condition and hearing those screams of pain. “You take the first shower,” James broke the silence as he set the dirty flannel down on the nightstand. “I’ll see if can get two pies from the bar while you’re in there.”

“You mean three right? Sirius is probably hungry too.”

James hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle on the door for half a moment, but it was long enough for Remus to notice the reluctance. “He’ll probably stay with Hermione tonight, mate.” He glanced over his shoulder to Remus, who was standing in the doorway of the restroom, jade green eyes full of unasked questions.

Remus knitted his brow at the response. “That bossy brunette?” When James nodded in return, his heart clenched. “Oh….who is she anyways?” Remus knew better than to ask questions he did not want to know the answer to--that was a life lesson he had learned the hard way after befriending his pack at Hogwarts--but he could not stop himself before the question had tumbled out of his mouth. His heart began a steady rhythm as he waited for a response from his friend. James would never lie to him, that much he knew, and if there was something going on between Sirius and that witch he could count on James to tell him the truth.

“Moony….I--” James moistened his lips, trying to find the words. “I think you oughta talk to Padfoot on that one.” His head nodded, as if trying to convince himself that was the best answer he could give. Turning quickly James exited the room leaving Remus standing in the doorway to the bathroom with his heart hammering painfully against his chest.

* * *

 

Numb. Hermione felt utterly and completely numb. Her tears had dried, as if her body had depleted its resources and needed to produce more, and she withdrew into herself. If Sirius had spoken to her she hadn’t heard him, or perhaps it was that she wasn’t ready to listen. Her heart ached so badly it seem to drown out the world around her as she lost herself in the grief. It wasn't just grief for Arthur and his family, but for Ronald. For Ginny. For first loves that would cease to exist, and a future that was most certainly being rewritten in the ripple effect this death would take upon her timeline.

Sirius carried Hermione bridal-style from the Castle to her room at the tavern, cradling her against his bruised chest despite the pain he was feeling. On entering the room he moved her to the bed, gently setting her down on the foot. “Hermione.” His hands rose to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing the remnants of tears away as he tried to get her attention. When her brown eyes fluttered up to his, but no words were spoken. Leaning down his lips pressed softly in the center of her eyebrows. “I’m going to draw a bath. Let’s clean you up, yeah?”

When no response was given to his question he knew that he had to do something, anything to get her talking. If he let her stay in this state for too long he would lose her to grief. He warded the room to prevent anyone from interrupting them before he moved into the bathroom and began the bath. As the tub filled with steamy water, he ushered her from the bed towards the tub. Careful of their wounds he undressed the pair, and under normal circumstances he would have appreciated the unabashed view of her slender frame, but he didn’t let his eyes stray beyond her shoulders.

He moved into the tub first, before guiding her in front of him, letting their bodies sink into the almost scalding water. He heard her hiss in response to the water lapping against her open wounds, but she didn’t fight the urge to sink under its warmth. 

Hermione leaned back against Sirius, letting her toes brush against the hot water that flowed from the tap. It was hot, almost too hot as it instantly reddened her skin, but she couldn’t help but seek it out. The pain seemed to break past this numb void and center her, even just for a moment.

As Sirius washed their bodies, she felt the flannel scrub her skin. The various cuts and gashes from their fight were reopened from the cleansing and seeped crimson trails across her freshly cleaned skin. When his fingers found the metal nail embedded in her shoulder, she didn't flinch, although inside her heart raced.

“Little Bird,” his voice was against her ear, using tones that one would with an injured child. “Just breathe,” he instructed as he felt her chest expand as her lungs filled in response to his index finger and thumb curling around the head of the nail in her shoulder and with one swift pull the nail was yanked free. He expected a scream, but she didn’t even emit a whimper. Dropping it to the floor the rusty metal clattered against the tile, echoing a small chorus in the room.

He cleaned them in silence, and by the time they had left the bath the grime left a thick ring around the white porcelain. He dressed her first, getting her into a fresh pair of knickers and his shirt from the day before, careful of her wounds and developing bruises as he tucks her into bed. His finger moved softly against her cheek to her forehead, smoothing the baby curls that lined her forehead back as he stroked her hair. “I’ll get some food. You should eat something.”

Hermione’s eyes flickered up to Sirius, her arms wrapped tightly around the comforter and a single nod was given. He was right, she knew this. For so long she had taken the role he’d placed on himself in the moment. The Nurturer, the one who made sure things got taken care of after tragedy.  She had retreated into this headspace to take care of her own misery for so long she had forgotten what it was like to be taken care of.

A fresh pair of jeans and a thick gray knit jumper were pulled on before he left the room. He had not bothered lacing his boots for the short trip, which meant the metal capping on the shoestrings tapped against the floor with each step. As he passed the marigold door his eyes couldn’t help but drift towards it. He knew Remus and James were in there, and he longed to be with his friends, but she needed him. Hermione was not the type of girl who needed help, from anyone, and this was something she made very well known to all who walked into her life. So the fact that she was allowing him to take care of her, he knew it was bad. How could it not be? She had just lost a friend, and part of her past, although how deeply the fissures of loss ran he couldn’t be certain.

He hesitated a half step, rubbing his lips together before pushing the feelings away. He’d go to them later, once he got her to sleep. James would understand and Remus….Well he’d come to understand, wouldn’t he? He didn’t know her yet, but from what Hermione had told him in the future they had been acquainted. A few more steps were taken before the noise of the marigold door opening behind him caught his attention and he paused his movement to look over his shoulder.

As Remus emerged from the room, Sirius couldn’t help but smile. “Shouldn’t you be curled up in bed, enjoying freedom?” Turning around to face his friend, he couldn’t help but run his eyes across his body. It had been months since he had last laid eyes on him, but he knew for certain there were more scars now than there were before. As his eyes trailed across his bare torso, taking in the way that the water droplets from his shower pooled into the grooves and dips of new pink skin of his blemishes, his smile began to waver. Gulping down the feelings of lust and concern that began to bubble in his belly, gray eyes looked up to Remus’ face.

Remus was in a pair of soft black bottom pants that sat low upon his hips, his skin was paler than Sirius was used to seeing, but it still held a soft golden hue. His chest was hairless, something that he was often teased about between their group because technically he was the first to any sort of body hair, only while shifted of course. His abdomen and chest were littered with scars, some still pink from their freshness, while others faded to an iridescent glow. When they were dating, Sirius would spend many nights running his lips across each and every blemish upon his body, lavishing the love and attention to every detail on Remus’ scarred frame.

“I was, but I got a bit lonely,” he joked as he approached Sirius, a small shy grin falling on his lips as he reached out and pulled Sirius into a warm embrace. His fingers ran across the plains of his back, itching to slide in the damp silk strands of black hair, but he refrained. “Gods. I’ve missed you, Padfoot,” his voice was barely above a whisper. Sirius and Remus used to be inches apart in height, but now it seemed Remus had gained a couple inches since the last time the pair were together. His head ducked low to tuck into the side of Sirius’ neck, his nose running over Sirius’ pulse point in an affectionate nuzzle as he inhaled the signature scent of Sirius Black, something he could never forgot, even when he was trapped in that fourth layer of hell they called Selwyn Castle.

Sirius held Remus close, fingers curling against the skin across his shoulders. “I’ve missed you too, Moony,” he replied, turning his head just slightly into his old friend, letting their stubbled cheeks brush against one another. It was intimate, Sirius knew it was borderline inappropriate, but he couldn’t deny the pull to comfort his old friend, not after what he knew he’d been through. “Don’t ever pull something like that again. You’re not allowed to go on Order business without clearing it by us first. You’re an Order member second to being a Marauder.” His voice was playfully stern as he reached up to tug on a strand of shaggy blonde hair.

“Ow! Okay. Okay. I won’t.” Laughing he leaned back from the embrace, but not separating from it, his hand rising to rub against the spot that had just been tugged at on his scalp. Jade green eyes couldn’t help but twinkle at Sirius as they stood, still embraced in the hallway. Remus let his eyes dance away from Sirius’ and down across his lips. Merlin, how he missed those lips. That mouth could turn a saint into a sinner, and Remus was far from being immune to its draw.

Without second thought, Remus leaned in, eyes honing in on those soft supple lips, but before he could reunite his with Sirius’, he had turned his head and the kiss was planted on Sirius’ right cheek. Remus could feel him stiffen in his hold and it was almost as if invisible walls were drawn between the two as Sirius gently slithered from Remus’ hold, gray eyes turning soft on his friend. It wasn’t the kind of look you would give a reunited romance. It was almost as if he was  about to deliver bad news. If he was being honest, it was the same fucking look he got the night Sirius broke up with him and it made his pulse race.

“Remus…” Sirius paused, struggling to find the right words as he took a step back. His left hand went to the back of his neck as his right shoved into his pocket, trying to give him something to do other than reach out to comfort his friend. Despite not being right for one another romantically, Sirius still cared for him. The man was one of his best friends before he was his lover. “I’m with someone Moony.”

“Who? That… That girl!?” Remus spat out the question as if it tasted sour on his tongue, causing Sirius to flinch just slightly in response.

“Moony--”

“No. Don’t...Don’t do that Sirius. Don’t ‘Moony’ me and expect that will make it better,” Remus injected quickly, his head shaking quickly causing his shaggy blonde hair to fall across his forehead once more. Taking a step back from Sirius to put more space between them, it was his turn for walls to be built. He couldn’t be physically close Sirius, because if he was close enough to touch, he would betray his feelings of hurt and reach for him. “You don’t date women, remember? You told me you were done with them.”

“She’s different, Remus.” His gray eyes pleaded with his friend as his hand slipped from his neck and instinctively he reached for the young werewolf. “When we get back you’ll meet her. Really meet her and you’ll see what--”

As Sirius’s fingertips came to touch his arm Remus pulled back, visibly reeling from Sirius’ attempt to comfort him. “Don’t. Gods, just don’t touch me.” Remus shoved Sirius’ hand away before it could reconnect with his skin. Jade green eyes dropped away from Sirius’ gaze, burning holes into the stone flooring at his feet as he tried to reign in his emotions before they completely barreled away from him. “I don’t want to meet her, Sirius. Merlin, why are you so fucking dense sometimes? Why the fuck would I want to meet the newest notch in your bedpost?”

Remus’s words dripped with venom, knowing exactly what to say to make Sirius break into a million tiny pieces. He knew his fears, and his deepest secrets. He was also apparently not above using them to bring him down a level or two. The hurt was visible on Sirius’ face as he withdrew his hand from Remus. He wanted to comfort him, knowing deep down that this volatile  reaction was just his way of trying to make Sirius hurt as much as he did, but it didn’t make the proverbial knife cut feel any better, in fact he drove the blade deeper. “It's not like that. Remus please don’t do this.”

“So what is it then?” Remus pressed, his fists curling at his sides as the tension bubbled beneath the surface of his words. “If she’s not a warm body in your bed, what is she?”

“I...I don’t know…”

“Do you love her, then? Is that it?”

Sirius let out a exacerbated sigh at the question, his brow knitting. “I said I don’t know!” he snapped as his hands went to slide through hair, pushing the inky locks away from his face as a deep blush began to twinge across his cheeks.

“Then what the fuck are you doing with her?!” Remus allowed his eyes drift back to Sirius in front of him and at the sight of his crimson cheeks he felt his heart snap in two. He did. He fucking loved her. He hadn’t been gone that long, it was only a couple months. How...How could he move on so quickly?

“I said I don’t fucking know! Merlin, Moony you just got back….I’m not--”  Sirius paused himself mid-sentence, knowing this conversation was doing neither of them favors at this point. The wounds from their split were still too fresh for Remus, and Sirius still cared too deeply about him to drag him into this mess so soon after being rescued. In a perfect world, Sirius would have been able to turn to Remus to help him figure this out, to figure out the complexities of his relationship with Hermione. To figure out how to be a better man for her, but this wasn’t a perfect world, was it? It was far too fucking messy and complicated and they were far from being able to fall back into an easy friendship. “Moony, can’t we talk about this later? I don’t want to do this...not here. Not now.”

“No! No we fucking cannot,” Jade eyes flashed yellow for a split second as the wolf in him reared its head in protest. “We don’t get to just reconvene when it’s better for you, Sirius.”

“It’s not my fault you left before---”

“Don’t,” Remus warned, his arms crossing over his chest. “Don’t finish that bleedin’ sentence.”

The pair stood on opposite sides of the hallway, staring at one another as James made his way down the hallway with hot meat pies in each hand. He had heard enough of the angry conversation as he made his way up the stairs to know he was about to walk into a warzone, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to try and make it a little better. Clearing his throat, they both turned to look at him and an awkward smile was given as he extended his hands towards either friend in an offering of the hot meal. “You know, you both just might be hungry? Lily always tells me I’m a bit grumpy if I don’t eat proper meals.”

“Are you serious, Prongs?! I’m not bloody mad because I’m hungry,” Remus growled, his lips pursing together in frustration at James intrusion.

“Actually,” James glanced between his mates, hazel eyes darting between the two faces as he hesitated for half a moment before going with his gut. “He’s Sirius...I’m James.” A sort of half grin was given to Remus as an angry growl was released at the old pun that had been used regularly while in school.

When Remus advanced on him, James gulped. Years of friendship taught him that when Remus was mad, you wanted to stay out of his way. Out of the group of them, he was usually the most composed and it took a lot for him to be sent over the edge. Which also meant when he did get set off it was like a firework igniting and you generally just ducked for cover and waited for the explosion to end.

As a bowl was snatched from James’ grasp, he couldn’t help but jump a little. He watched silently as Remus shot a hard look to Sirius before turning his back to them and began down the hallway towards the marigold door.

“Remus. Please, don’t be upset,” Sirius called out as his ex walked away, teeth biting the corner of his bottom lip. “Moony.”

Remus paused when he reached the door, his back still to James and Sirius and a heavy sigh was let out as he collected himself for a moment. “Don’t Sirius. Don’t ask me to forgive you. Not yet.” He gave one fleeting glance to the pair over his shoulder before his eyes connected with Sirius across the hallway. “I will, but not just yet.”

As Remus disappeared inside the room, Sirius felt his heart quiver. His own heavy breath was let out and moments later he felt an arm creep around his shoulders. James had moved up beside him in the moments of Moony’s retreat and was not trying to comfort him. Noble bastard. Sirius let his head fall on his friend’s muscular shoulder, letting the feeling of defeat wash over him. Maybe Remus was wrong. Maybe he’d never be able to forgive him.

As if he was a mind reader (although lets be honest, it likely wasn’t hard to see the pain written clear as day across his face), James let his cheek rest against the top of Sirius’ head as they stood in the hallway. “He’ll come around, Padfoot,” he offered, fingers squeezing gently into his shoulder. “Just give it time. Don’t force it. Remember when he first found out I was dating Lily?” he offered as he let his hip nudge against his friend’s playfully.

Sirius couldn’t help but feel his lips pull on at the corners of his mouth at the memory of the weeks it took for Remus to stop calling her ‘Yoko Ono’, which Lily told him was some Japanese musician that broke up a Muggle band called the Bugs (or was it the Beetle?), whoever the hell they were. “We’ll see.” A small shrug was given and he glanced up to James.

“He will,” he said almost certainly before winking to his friend. It was times like these that made Sirius wonder if James’ arrogance growing up was actually just misinterpreted hope. When James glanced down the darkened hallway before them, Sirius allowed his eyes to follow the path to the periwinkle door.

“How is she?” James questioned before unlooping his arm from around Sirius so he could lean against the wall in the hallway. “She looked pretty rough back there.”

“She’s okay, just needs some time,” Sirius explained, letting his eyes drift to the stone flooring briefly before glancing up to James. “She hasn’t said a word since we left.”

“I didn’t realize she knew Weasley.”

“Yeah...she was pretty close with him. They uh…they worked together at the Ministry on occasion,” Sirius was never a good liar. Sure he could bend the truth, but this was something he didn’t even fully understand yet. He knew she knew Arthur and his children, but to what capacity was hard to say, and it wasn’t his story to tell, was it? He let his eyes fall away from James, instead looking down at the single meat pie that was in James’ hand.

James knew that Sirius was lying, hell he wouldn’t even look at him when he told it, but he also knew Sirius wouldn’t be dishonest with him for a shit reason. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he offered, watching Sirius tense a little at his words in preparation for a tongue lashing. “But know that I’m here for her. I don’t know her well…. But I’d like to.”

When Sirius lifted his head to look at his friend once more, James only offered a smile before the food in his hand was held out. “Here, take this to her. I’ll get another. It’ll give Moony some time to calm down,” he explained.

Sirius took the food without a fight, letting both hands curl around the porcelain bowl in front of him. “Thank you Prongs.”

“Don’t worry about it, mate.”

“No. I mean it, thank you,” Sirius pressed. James had been there from the beginning. He accepted Sirius even when his own family shunned him, and despite whatever self-destructive behavior Sirius did, James was always by his side to help him pick up the pieces.

James’ cheeks flushed softly at his friend, right hand going up to push through the unruly black hair. “Go. You can thank me over a pint once we’re back.” His head nodded toward the periwinkle door before he moved past Sirius, heading back down the hallway towards the stairs that took him down to the tavern below.

Sirius moved past the marigold door quickly to Hermione’s and he slipped inside. The room was still dimly lit by the single candle the burned in the corner, casting a soft glow across the small curled-up figure of his girlfriend in the bed. Moving to her side of the bed, he set down the bowl on the nightstand before turning to her. She was fast asleep holding the comforter tightly even in her sleep. Reaching out he let backs of his fingers brush softly against her cheek, pushing the stray curls off her silken skin. When her eyelids fluttered in response he leaned down, letting his lips press softly into her temple. “It's just me,” he whispered softly, letting the tip of his nose touch her hairline. “Go back to bed.”

She shifted under his kiss, and her hand clutching the covers lifted to touch his cheek, letting the rough stubble slide beneath her fingertips. “Will you hold me?” Brown eyes opened shortly after her question and turned up to him. Their foreheads touched as she rolled onto her back to scoot over in bed to make room for him.

He didn’t respond with words, instead allowing his actions to do the talking for him. He pulled back just to press two kisses gently in the center of her forehead before he moved away. He pulled the gray jumper off, letting it fall to the floor carelessly at his feet as he toed out of his boots. Fingers unbuttoned his jeans and he let them join the rest of his clothing on the floor before his body slipped into the sheets next to her. He wrapped his arms around her slender frame, pulling her snug up against him. As her head came to rest on his chest, his hand slipped beneath her shirt to stroke up and down her spine soothingly.

Hermione’s hand centered over his heart on his chest, feeling the soft beat beneath her palm as her ear heard the same rhythm. As her leg slipped over Sirius’ hip to hold him close, she couldn’t help but relax in his embrace. It was as if nothing else mattered in this moment. She could pretend that tomorrow she would wake up and the world would be right. Reaching out, she traced her fingers across his chest, feeling the soft hair that littered his chest slide beneath her fingers as she let them travel across his torso and down his arm until they found his hand and slowly she laced their fingers together.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, once wrapped up in Sirius’ embrace. Her soft breaths attempted to lull him to follow her into a deep slumber, but as he lay in bed holding the woman who had captured his heart, he couldn’t help but wonder how much pain this would cause his friend. Remus and Sirius both knew deep down that they didn’t belong together; the physical connection was obvious, but great sex does not mean you are supposed to end up with someone. And technically speaking, he wasn’t supposed to be with Hermione either. Their meeting was far from fate, as the witch was clearly meddling with time, but he couldn’t help but feel as if it was written in the stars. But was she worth the risk? Their future held so many unanswered questions. Would his heart be broken? Would they make it through this war? Would she come back? Maybe the safe bet was to go back to Remus, but now that he’d had a taste of whatever this feeling that bubbled beneath his skin each time he touched her, he wasn’t sure if he could ever deny himself the pleasure of feeling it again. He knew for certain now that he wasn’t meant to be with Moony; it was almost as if she was a piece of his puzzle he never knew he had been missing.

By his calculations, they had roughly twenty-seven days left together before she had to return and he was bound and determined to make sure those remaining days were spent in each others’ arms, the consequences and complications be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all don't hate me too much for the last chapter. I've had some people ask if she will go back and 'fix' what happened with Arthur, and I can say (without a doubt) that she will not. Without giving away where this is going, it is just not feasible for her to try and go back every time something bad happens (which let me tell you, this won't be the last time something bad happens). She was warned about the potential for new types of fall out, but she just assumed they might superficial stuff. 
> 
> For those curious about Remus' head space right now I recommend listening to Sia's 'Elastic Heart' (which totally influenced the name of the chapter). You'll see a lot more Moony, Prongs, Lily & even some Peter coming up, but don't forget, that time-turner is certainly letting sand through and her time to return to 1999 will come up quicker than we all realize. ;) 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to KnitKnitRead for being the most amazing Alpha & friend I could ask for. She helped me process the Remus/Sirius feelings and their future encounters. You'll see some her brilliance in the next couple chapters as she helped me suss out a couple scenes! <3
> 
> Also, Islndgurl777, my ever dedicated Beta. She's taking this emotional roller coaster with you all as she reads and fixes all my grammar mistakes. <3 You're the Takko to my Magnus!


	18. Never Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 14th, 1979 - Godric’s Hollow - 16:00**

The remaining members of the recovery team arrived home a day after Gideon and Fabian. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to go with James to check in on Molly when the dust had finally settled enough for them to breathe, so she stayed at the Potter-Evan’s home in Godric’s Hollow using the report she was supposed to write as her excuse. She knew she needed to write the details of the events down for her report, that way the death could be properly explained, but the moment her quill was put to parchment, she found her mind blank.

She couldn’t find the clinical separation she normally found when writing the reports. She could no be so factual about Arthur’s death when her heart was still so broken. By the time the group had returned, she was only able to write fifteen words. She folded up the scroll and carefully sealed it with wax, as per Alastor’s request, before it was tied to the leg of the Potter owl and sent on its way. She knew it wouldn’t be helpful in the future, but it was all she could manage to write. When the parchment would be unsealed in 1999, Minister Kingsley would only read the following words written in Hermione’s beautiful looping scrawl: ‘Weasley Family loses three on June 8th, 1979. Forgive me, Ron and Ginny. I tried.’

The three days between their return to England and Arthur's funeral were the longest three days she could ever remember. Hermione had begun to talk, eat and slowly turn back into herself, but she knew Sirius noticed that there was still something held back. She was scared--no. She was absolutely terrified of getting too close. Petrified that she would not be able to prevent anyone else from dying, and then her personal reasons for taking on this mission would all be for nothing.

James and Lily had graciously opened up their home to Hermione and Sirius, allowing the budding couple to stay in the spare bedroom on the second floor since returning to the flat in Puddlemere might pose a bit of a problem. Remus was not exactly keen with the prospect of sharing his living space with a stranger, which meant Hermione found herself thrust into the  daily lives of the people she was so desperately trying not to grow attached to.

The funeral was well attended by the wizarding community. The amount of mourners who attended rivaled the amount that had shown up to the Weasley-Delacour during her seventh year. The Burrow had been packed, the white tents outside charmed to a more appropriate smokey gray. Molly kept a brave face as she stood next to the casket of her fallen husband. The eldest three of her five boys stood to her left during the ceremony, hand in hand as their father was lowered into the earth. Fred and George were too young to be without constant supervision; instead they were held by their uncles, who did their best to keep the infants quiet during the burial.

They didn’t stay long, as the moment the group had wandered into the Weasley homestead, Hermione couldn’t help but notice the family clock in the living room. It was missing two hands since the last time she had seen it, but what stood out most the fact Arthur’s was askew from the rest of his family’s. His hand was frozen to the left, forever pointing to the ‘Lost’ section. She couldn’t bring herself to stay after that haunting sight stole her breath to the point her lungs burned for fresh air. Hermione waited in the far corner of the living room as the group gave their condolences to Molly and the Prewitts, making promises of returning next week to check in on the widow and children before taking their leave.

The Marauders shared dinner in the Potter-Evans home, and at Lily’s insistence, she set everyone up to stay the night, firmly stating that no one should be alone on a night like this. Hermione could not agree more, even if it made her feel incredibly awkward to be in the same room as Remus knowing how deeply wounded her relationship with Sirius made him feel.

Two bottles of Firewhiskey were shared between the six before Hermione excuse herself from the group, using the need for sleep as an excuse to escape the living room they all were. She climbed the stairs two at a time after saying goodnight and hurried to the guest bedroom on the second floor. As she slipped inside she took a moment to lean back on the wooden door, her hand still firmly grasped on the cold metal knob as she let out a shaky breath.

Silent tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she squeezed them shut tight, wishing they would just stop coming. She was trying to let go, trying to move on from this pain so she could begin to pick up the pieces to make a coherent plan for how she was going to proceed from here. “Fuck. Pull it together, Hermione,” she muttered under her breath, reaching up to roughly drag her hand across her rosy cheeks to banish the tears away. Pushing off the door she moved to the end of her bed, slipping off the pair of sensible heels Lily had let her borrow.

Withdrawing her wand from a small clutch, she pointed the wand to her back and with a flick of her wrist the zipper moved down. She let it fall from her shoulders and pool around her feet. Stepping from the garment, she bent low to pick it up, carefully folding the soft material neatly and setting it on top of the chest at the foot of the bed next to her wand. As she reached back to unhook her bra, there was a soft knock at her door, causing her breath to catch. “Uhh...Just a moment.”

The silver door knob turned slowly, ignoring her words. It opened just enough until Sirius’ head popped in the room, shaggy inky locks hanging just in his gray eyes. “Just me.” He shut the door behind him as he moved inside.

“What are you doing? You should be downstairs with your friends,” Hermione questioned, her hands pausing their work at unhooking her bra until she turned her back to him, letting the lingerie slip off her shoulders. She hadn’t been completely naked in front of Sirius since the night she returned, something she was sure he noticed. It was impossible to miss the way she would hide her body from him each time they got dressed. Grabbing the soft gray jumper of Sirius’ she had been using for her night clothes since her arrival, she pulled it on quickly, allowing the stretched-out neckline drape across her shoulder, exposing it to the night air.

Sirius’ eyes ran across her back, taking the soft curves of her figure until she covered up. He leaned back against the door, watching her cross the room and crawl into bed before answering. “They’ll be there in the morning,” he shrugged, reaching up to loosen the thin gray tie until it unraveled from the knot. “I wanted to come check on you, anyways.” Sliding it off his neck he casually tossed it on the trunk next to her dress before unbuttoning the vibrant purple button down.

Sliding under the covers she tilted her head to the side as she watched Sirius undress, unable to prevent a tiny laugh escape as he playfully swayed his hips in her direction while he disrobed. Once he was down to a pair of black boxers he began to slow crawl over the trunk and across bed towards her. As his body began to snake over hers, Hermione reached out, sliding her fingers into the hair above his forehead, moving the black fringe back from his face. “Sirius,” she whispered, her eyes shining apologetically towards him. “I...I can’t. Not tonight.”

Gray eyes ran across her face, as if trying to read past the apologetic gaze, to see what lay beneath the surface that she had only been showing the past couple days. He nodded, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against her lips before he flopped down next to her on the mattress. His ego was bruised, sure, but it was not irreparable. They had not been intimate since that night, hell they had barely been romantic lately. Sirius Black was not known for his patience, but for her he was willing to try. “Are you going to be okay, Little Bird?” he questioned after five minutes of silence passed and she had made no move towards him on the bed.

Hermione was looking at her hands in her lap, her thumbnail picking at the chipped nail polish on her index finger nervously. “I think so,” she replied softly, glancing over to him only when his hand went out to envelope hers. As their eyes connected she felt the tears she had waged war with all day begin to well up, blurring the edge of her vision.

Slowly he laced his fingers with hers, letting his thumb stroke the side of her hand in a reassuring manner as he settled down into the bed next to his witch, sliding beneath the comforter. “Can you tell me about them?” he questioned as he reached out with his free hand to brush against her cheek, sensing her impending tears.

“Who?”

“Your friends. Arthur’s other kids.”

She hesitated, unsure of how to even begin. “A-Are you sure you want to know?” she questioned, licking her bottom lip nervously as she looked down to their joined hands as her tears slipped from her eyes and splashed against the white sheets they lay on.

“Of course I do. They were your friends right?”

“Ronald was one of my best friends,” she breathed, looking back up to Sirius who had rolled onto his side and tucked his arm under his head to provide a cushion as he watched her process his request internally. He had sensed she needed it. At the funeral she was able to mourn the loss of Arthur, but there would be no graveside service for people who no longer existed. She wouldn’t be able to properly say goodbye to her friends, but maybe there was some sort of release from the guilt she felt if she shared their memory with someone. Going back wouldn’t fix this particular problem, as they would have ceased to exist entirely, meaning the mutual friends she shared would have no recollection of any future red-headed Weasley children.

Hermione had mentioned Ronald to Sirius before, but not in detail; he had no way of knowing how deep their relationship ran. And she never brought up Ginny, how could she? Sure, Ginny had been there supporting them during their years at Hogwarts, but their friendship did not truly blossom until they had graduated. Licking her bottom lip she slowly unlaced their hands so she could push herself up on the mattress until her her lower back was padded by pillows as she leaned back, her fingers running across the comforter to smooth it out over her lap.

“I met Ronald and Harry at the same time my first year. On the Hogwarts Express looking for my friend Neville’s toad….” The best place to start any story was at the beginning, right? This was a story that spanned so many years that it would feel unjust to skip the trivial details that defined their relationship, such as the essays Hermione would help write, the endless games of Exploding Snap in the Gryffindor common room, or the way they began to steal glances and shy away from an accidental touches during their fourth year.

She told Sirius about the ‘Lavender Brown Debacle’, The Yule Ball, and the summer between fourth and fifth year in Grimmauld Place where she and Ronald would stay up late ‘working’ on summer holiday essays but really just enjoy each other company. She told the formation of the DA during her fifth year, and the nights they would spend waiting for Harry to return from Umbridge’s office huddled up on the couch, using the excuse of comforting one another to get away with an embrace.

She told of Horcrux hunting, the war, and the first kiss they shared in the Chamber of Secrets during The Battle of Hogwarts. As years of memories tumbled off her lips, tears and laughter accompanied each story. She could feel the flame of crimson flicker across her cheeks as she spoke of her first time with Ron, losing her virginity to the boy she had loved for so long on a rainy night in March after the war. They had offered to stay at the apartment above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes for George so he could attend a business meeting with some potential franchises in America. Ron had filled George’s spare bedroom with an overabundance of lit candles and roses in an attempt to make the experience memorable for her. In the end, it was but not because it was a magical evening where they learned every inch of each others’ bodies, but rather the candles fell over within the first five minutes of their awkward love making and they had to extinguish it before the rest of the flat ignited.

Of course, it got better. Sex with Ron was easy. She had known him for so long that it was as if he could read her mind. They didn’t rush their exploration of one another, as they knew they had all the time in the world, and perhaps that was their downfall, knowing that they would be there for each other in the future, a future that would never exist now. By the time she came to speak of her break up, her tears fell without sobs, and without laughter. They fell because she knew the time they both assumed they had to grow up, to explore the world without being trapped in a relationship, was gone. She told him of the last time he spent the night in her flat, the same night they agreed they should see other people. The way he kissed her forehead, and held her as they both cried. The way it felt like her heart broke into a million pieces and the very last time she lay with Ron. The way they clung to one another as they said goodbye to their romance with one last night beneath the sheets of her bed, and how in the morning he left before she had even woken up.

How she hated him for weeks after, especially when he showed up in the Prophet with some French witch two months after they had split. The hate had faded over the next several weeks, as the pain from their split subsided. Her life had continued on, despite now being single for the first time in her adult life. This also meant she was set up on numerous blind dates in an attempt to find her Mister Right, or rather Mister Right Now.

Her life post-Ron told stories of her friendship with Ginny, as it tended to be a bit awkward when Harry, Ron and she were together, despite their efforts to act like nothing was different. Instead, she found herself being dragged to clubs, various Harpy matches, and eventually moving into a shared flat with the youngest Weasley.

She told stories of their shared double dates where Ginny set her up with various Quidditch players, and how she would help her ditch the particularly bad ones when the date wouldn’t go as planned. She shared her memories of their many breakfasts at a local greasy spoon not two blocks from their flat in Muggle London, and how they had convinced the chef they were dating so they could get the occasional free breakfast by showing innocent displays of affection, such as hand holding. And how Ginny had taken it one step further by smacking her arse one morning after a long drunken night.

She would miss Ron because he was her first love. He was the boy who taught her how it felt to fall in love, the butterflies one gets when that special person walks into the room and glances your direction. He was also the first to teach her what heartbreak felt like, and how it felt to cry until your lungs burned for oxygen because your body wasn’t quite sure if it was actually breathing through the tears. She would miss Ginny because she was the first friend Hermione had who pulled her from her bookish shell, and made her believe she was more than just a smart witch. She had brought out a side of Hermione that she wasn’t even aware that she possessed, and encouraged her to take the Auror exam when Hermione accidentally left the paperwork for the test out on the kitchen table. She was the first friend who encouraged her live life through experiences, not just read about them from the safety of her home.

By the time she was out of memories to tell, it was nearly three in the morning. Her eyes and cheeks were red and raw from the salty tears shed, but her soul felt lighter. She had moved to laying on her back beside Sirius, tucked under his arm as he played with the ends of her hair while listening to her. Lifting her head just slightly to look at his face, she saw his eyes closed and knew he was beyond exhausted. They had been up since nearly seven am, but not once did he complain or yawn as she unloaded years worth of memories upon him. He listened, he wiped her tears, he held her hand, and told her it would be okay. He didn’t demand that she toughen up, nor cut her off when she spoke of her romance.

“Sirius.” Reaching out her fingertips brushed across his cheek before running the length of his sharp jawline as he turned his head towards her, sleepy gray eyes cracking open. She was certain she looked like a wreck, but for some reason he looked at her the same way he would have if she were dressed to the nines, like she was the most beautiful object on the planet and he was just lucky enough to catch a glimpse. “Thank you,” she began in a soft whisper. “For listening. You didn’t have to.”

Sirius knitted his brow at her words before giving his head the slightest of shakes. “Of course I did. They don’t deserve to be forgotten.” Rolling onto his side so he faced her, his free hand went out to rest across her chest, directly over her heart. “They’ll be in here, you know that, right? They’ll always be there but now they’ll be with me too. We lost three people that night, even if the records only show one. I won’t forget that.”

If her heart was an engine, it would have backfired at his words. They say time can heal all wounds, but time can also make you forget, and perhaps that was her biggest fear. Everyone else would forget they existed, and as time ticked by would she too? Would she fail to remember Ron’s goofy smile, or the way Ginny would dance like no one was watching?

Biting her bottom lip at his words, she allowed her eyes to drift closed, except this time, no tears fell. She let the memory of her friends wash over her as she lay in Sirius’ arms, trying to engrain this moment in her mind so she may never lose it. This was it, this was her past ending, and her future beginning. This was the moment Hermione realized that despite the precautions she had taken, and the rules she tried to establish, she had fallen in love with Sirius Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the shortness of this chapter. It really needed to stand alone for reasons I think (or hope) you can gather after reading it. I hope you feel a little bit lighter after reading through it! I should have one more chapter for you all this Saturday. We will see more Moony, Padfoot and Hermione interactions soon (not this weekend, sorry to get your hopes up) and some nice fluff (and smut) heading your way to help ease your soul. I hope you're enjoying this story so far! Also, before I forget, let me shamelessly promote myself, I have started a Tumblr. Come follow me @ ms-merlinblack ~ MM


	19. Little Red Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.
> 
> Also, this chapter is NSFW. Enjoy

**June 16th, 1979 - Godric’s Hollow - 14:00**

“Hermione, are you sure? This is a lot. I’ve only ever trimmed James’ hair before.” Lily stood behind Hermione in the bathroom holding a pair of silver scissors at her side as she eyed the chestnut curls that were tied at the nape of Hermione’s neck skeptically.

“Lily if you don’t do it, I’ll just do it myself and it will end up looking horrendous because I don’t have eyes in the back of my head,” she reminded the witch crisply, shifting nervously on the enlarged step-stool they had transfigured in the middle of the bathroom before the mirror. When she woke that morning, she knew a change needed to happen, she just was not certain what type of change it would be until she had come across those silver scissors while searching the bathroom drawers for a band-aid.

She instantly dragged Lily into the restroom away from her bedroom on the second floor where she had been surveying the contents of her wardrobe in an attempt to find the perfect outfit for her dinner tonight. Lily and James were going to Cokeworth tonight for a shared meal with Lily’s parents, something James was unusually nervous about because unbeknownst to Lily, he had planned on asking Mr. Evans for Lily’s hand in marriage, as was the proper Muggle custom he learned after watching being forced to watch what his girlfriend referred to as ‘chick flicks’.

Thrusting the pair of silver shears in her friend’s hands, she explained she needed her assistance with an impromptu haircut. She insisted the cut did not need to be perfect when Lily began to object. Far too much of her life had been meticulously planned up until recently. Perfect was beginning to become overrated and, if she was to be completely honest, entirely unobtainable anymore. Lily reached out and wrapped her small hand around the thick mass of curls, weighing it in her palm before glancing into the mirror so her eyes could lock onto Hermione’s. “I can always get you in with my stylist,” she offered, trying her hand at swaying the curly haired witch’s mind.  “He’s just down in the Alley, I bet if we floo’d him he could squeeze you in tomorrow.”

“Lily. Just cut my hair already! I’m not asking you to perform surgery,” Hermione could not help but laugh, watching the red-headed witch wrinkle her nose at Hermione’s reflection in the mirror. Harry had clearly not gotten his spontaneity from his mother, as the witch looked like she might have a heart attack this very second. Which did not boost Hermione’s confidence in the accuracy of the cut, but at this point there was no changing her mind. Worst case scenario she could go to a hairdresser after taking a quick grow potion, right?

Hermione watched as Lily lifted the scissors to Hermione’s shoulder blades, lining them up with the thick band that served as a marker for the desired length. Hermione held her breath as she heard the shears open, the anticipation bubbling beneath her skin as she felt and heard the first cut slice her through a section of heavy chestnut curls, sending seven inches tumbling the bathroom floor. It took five more passes for the last cut to he made, and when it was finally complete, Hermione felt lighter. Figuratively and literally.

She was no longer the bushy-haired witch from her youth, having seen (and done) far too many impactful events by nineteen. She had been through one war already, and was currently fighting in another. She had watched too many good people die, and even more slip into madness from grief. She needed a change, and not just because she was still processing her own grief, but because she was ready to begin her life without her past holding her back. She was ready to take sage (but youthful) Ginny’s advice and take those experiences head on. She could figure out the logistics behind them later.

“If you hate it, it’s not my fault,” Lily reminded as she reached over Hermione’s shoulder to set the silver scissors on the bathroom counter before taking a step back, her arms crossing over her small bosom as she assessed the trim she had just given her new friend, awaiting a reaction from her, silently hoping it wasn’t mortification.

Hermione reached back, her fingertips brushing the blunt edge of her ponytail that ended at the tops of her shoulders, biting her bottom lip nervously as she pulled the elastic band down the length of her much shorter curls until it fell free from her hair. She twisted the black elastic band between her thumb and index finger as she dropped her hand to the counter top, slowly rising from the stool she leaned across the vanity to examine herself in the mirror, getting a closer look at the newly chopped hairstyle. “Merlin, Lily,” she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear, watching the way her curls bounced off her shoulder with the new freedom from the heavy length she possessed only moments ago. “This is perfect.” Spinning around a wide grin fell across her features, brown eyes positively dancing with delight in the artificial lighting of the tiny bathroom.

Lily couldn’t help but smile in return; Hermione’s enthusiasm was clearly infectious. “You like it?” Reaching out to touch the new ends of Hermione’s hair as she assessed her work, green eyes examining the way it framed her oval-shaped face and ended just at her collarbone. “This does suit you better. Brings out your eyes,” she complimented.

“I love it.” Without warning Hermione reached out and pulled Lily into a hug, thin arms sliding around the taller woman to bring her in close. “Thank you.” She couldn’t help but laugh as Lily, who was clearly startled by the sudden display of affection, returned the hug awkwardly. “I’m going to go show Sirius. I’ll come back and clean up.”

“Don’t worry about it, I got it.” Lily lifted her wand from where it lay on the countertop. “I wanted to freshen up before we leave anyways.” Waving her wand towards the floor, the chestnut strands of curls that littered the floor floated up, following the direction of Lily’s wand as she pointed it to the trash can beside the toilet. Shooing her friend out of the restroom, Lily shut the door once Hermione was on the other side.

Hermione’s bare feet padded against the soft carpeting on the second landing, carrying her to the railing beside the stairs and she leaned over the edge, calling out Sirius’ name into the house below.

“What, witch?” was returned from the living room where he sat across the coffee table from James, a chessboard between the pair as they were halfway through a game of wizard’s chess that Sirius was badly losing to a very smug James. Chewing on his thumbnail as he eyed the board a huff was released as his name was called again and he glanced up to his friend. “Don’t cheat.” Rising from the couch he grabbed his pint glass off the table, taking a large gulp as he moved towards the stairs in the foyer. “What do you want?”

Sliding her hand across the rail until she reached the top of the stairs, her hands went to her hips as she eyed Sirius amble to the first step of the stairs, not bothering to look up towards her yet. “Stop pouting because you’re losing and look up, you tosser,” she teased, knowing the words would ignite a playful streak.

“Tosser?” Glancing up at the stairs he froze on the second step, gray eyes running across her features as he took in the newly shortened length of her hair as a slow crooked grin spread across his face. “Name calling, and shorter hair, are we certain you’re Hermione?” he questioned playfully, bending down to set his half finished pint glass on the side of the third stair. “I’m starting to think we might have an imposter in our midst. Might have give you proper a once-over to make sure.”

“Sirius,” Hermione warned, taking a step back from the stair landing to match his slow stalking pace towards her, knowing that look in his eye all too well by now. “Don’t you dare.” Her hand went out, index finger pointing towards him as she let loose involuntary laughter each step he took towards her as she backed away. Reaching behind her until her fingertips touched the wall she halted her retreat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, strange lady,” he teased, tongue darting out to run across his bottom lip. He was halfway up the stairs, one hand holding the rail as the other reached up to push his own shaggy locks back from his eyes. He was in desperate need of a haircut, but had held off as he quite enjoyed the way Hermione would run her fingers through his hair at the end of the day, so the decision to let it grow out, just a bit longer, was an easy one to come to.

Sirius moved quickly taking the stairs two at a time as he darted towards Hermione who let out a small squeak before turning and running down the hallway, heavy footsteps thumping on the second floor landing as she darted into the guest bedroom. She moved across the room to stand on the opposite side of the bed from the doorway, her hands planted against the mattress in a defensive pose, ready to flee should the chance arrive.

Sirius had wasted no time going after her, letting the bedroom door slam shut behind him as darted into the room. He froze in the doorway, gray eyes shimmering as looked to her opposite of the room. Like an animal stalking its prey, he moved towards the bed slowly, smirking as he watched Hermione’s eyes dart around the room, trying to formulate her escape. “You’re not getting past me,” he teased in a sing-songy sort of drawl. “Although, I think you wanted to get caught, didn’t you?”

She knew he was right, he was far quicker than she was, but the thrill was in the chase, wasn’t it? The moment that playful look twinkled in his eye at the bottom of the stairs she knew she would be captured. “If I surrender, will you promise not to tickle me?” her question was hopeful, as they both knew that option fell off the table the moment she ran from him in the hallway.

“Waving the white flag already? You really must be an imposter.” He gave her a wink as that crooked smile she could not resist was flashed her way. He moved quickly around the bed, hoping to trap her between the bed and the wall, but she lunged across the mattress on her hands and knees hoping to scramble away from him before being caught.

Just as she thought she’d made it, she felt his rough hand curl around her right ankle and she was yanked back to the center of the guest bed swiftly. He moved on top of her as he flipped her over onto her back, hips pinning her waist down as he trapped both hands above her head before mercilessly beginning to tickle her sides and under her arms. Hermione shrieked with laughter as she fought valiantly against him, feet planting into the mattress as she tried to push him off her. “S-Sirius! S-S-Sttooopp!!” she begged as she involuntarily laughed under his ministrations. “P-Please! I’ll...I’ll do a-anything!”

Pausing his assault, gray eyes focused on her flushed face as he collected his breath above her. “Anything?” he questioned, wagging his brows after his question.

Hermione panted beneath him, lungs straining against the weight of his body that pinned her to the bed. Her bottom lip was bitten at his silent suggestion, knowing full well what he had in mind. “You can’t be serious? We’re not in your flat!” she breathed out, tilting her head backwards momentarily to look at the closed door to the bedroom, as if Lily and James were just standing on the other side listening in to their conversation and knew what lewd thoughts had been playing inside his mind.

“I am, in fact, quite serious.” His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her purple tank top, letting it bunch against the soft skin of her side as he slowly tickled his fingers up her body. “If you’d rather not, I could always continue.”

“Nooo, stop!” she shouted quickly as he began his torture again, fingers curling against his palm that held her hands above her head. “I’ll do it….but not until Lily and James leave.”

If Sirius’ smile could have enveloped his entire face, this would have been the moment it happened. Leaning down he pressed his lips against her throat, dragging them across the delicate skin until he reached her collarbone and he smiled against her skin. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he murmured playfully before nipping at her collarbone.

Her eyes fluttered shut at his affections, head tipping to the side to allow him more room as he licked his way back up her throat. “Because I’m a pushover?” she questioned in a breathy sort of whisper as his mouth found the sensitive spot behind her ear that caused her toes to curl.

“Because you’re perfect.” His husky reply was whispered directly into her ear before he pulled back to smile down at his witch who was now flush faced for an entirely different reason. Bending down once more he pressed his lips into hers in a quick kiss before he slipped off the bed.

Hermione tilted her head backwards as she watched him moves towards the door, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What? Wait, where are you going?” Rolling over onto her stomach she pushed herself up onto her knees. “You can’t just start kissing my neck and leave,” she protested, her lips pursing together just slightly.

Sirius had made it to the door, his hand holding the round knob as he glanced over his shoulder to Hermione. “Consider it a warm up,” he teased as a smirk fell over his lips. “Besides, I’ve got to go rush Romeo out the door so you can hold up your end of the deal.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as Sirius left the room, watching him move briskly down the hallway as he called out to his friend. Falling back on the messy bed, she brought her hands up to her face, letting her fingers press into her eyes as she let loose a laugh. What the hell did she just agree to?

“So I take it he liked your hair?” The question broke through her disbelieving laughter. Hermione lifted her head to see Lily in the doorway. Her long red hair elegantly curled in soft waves and a sensible cream colored sundress with a Tiffany-blue cardigan was worn. She really was strikingly beautiful, with her peaches and cream skin, long red hair and beautiful green eyes. It was no wonder James had been enamored with her for so long.

Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows as she nodded to the witch. “I think so. He didn’t say he hated it?” She shrugged slightly. “You look great. Why are you so dressed up? It’s just dinner at your parents, right?”

Lily looked over her shoulder, checking to make sure the coast was clear before she crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside Hermione. “Promise not to tell Sirius?” She had dropped her voice to a soft whisper, trying to make sure that the men downstairs could not hear.

“What is it?” Hermione questioned as she pushed herself so she was sitting face to face with Lily, who was suddenly looking like a small child who had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Everything okay?”

“I was going through James’ quidditch gear last week,” she began, dropping her gaze to her hands before looking up to Hermione nervously. “I swear I was just trying to clean his clothes. They smelled foul, I swear he never puts them in the wash.”

“Okay...and?”

“And well… I saw a little box.” When Hermione didn’t catch the meaning, a soft exacerbated sigh was let out. “You know… a little red...velvet box.” She lifted her right hand to show Hermione the size.

“Oh…. Oh!!” Hermione’s eyes widened. This was it? This was when James proposed to Lily?! It was all she could do to not audible let out a noise in excitement at the revelation. “Lily, that’s wonderful!” Reaching out her hands curled around the witch’s, giving them a soft squeeze. “Congratulations!”

“He hasn’t asked me yet,” she laughed as a beautiful toothy smile spread across her lips. “I don’t even know if he’ll do it tonight, but I want to look good in case he does,” she explained, glancing over her shoulder when she heard Sirius shout her name from the foyer, obviously trying to hurry Lily and James out the door.

“Lily.” When the witch turned her attention back to Hermione, she continued. “You could be wearing a pillowcase and James would think you look beautiful,” she teased, smirking through a small laugh. “But, for the record, you do look stunning.”

“Oh shut it.” She blushed, pulling her hands back from Hermione and she tucked some loose red curls behind her ear before moving towards the door. She paused as she reached the frame to glance over her shoulder to Hermione who still sat on the bed. “Just...Don’t tell Sirius. I want James to have his moment.”

Hermione nodded, understanding that if she did tell Sirius that Lily knew, he might accidentally let it slip before James was ready to ask the question. “My lips are sealed.”

Before a thank you could be given a shout from Sirius interrupted the moment. “Lily Joyce Evans, get your arse down here before I kiss your boyfriend and make him fall madly in love with me!!” Green eyes were rolled to the back of her head as a heavy sigh was released at the ridiculous threat, obviously having heard that particular threat at least once before.

“Go before Sirius has a fit,” Hermione laughed. “But when you come back, we’ll need to go out so you can tell me all about that little velvet box.” If she was committing to trying her hand at figuring out this relationship with Sirius, she couldn’t stop herself from getting to know the rest of them, could she?

Lily made a quick promise to do just that before she left the room, retreating down the stairs to be greeted by a pushy Sirius who was quiet literally ushering the pair out the door, making sure to tell them to take their time and not hurry home.

* * *

Hermione nervously ran her fingers across the tops of her lacy black knickers, making sure the pattern lay flat against her skin as she eyed herself in the mirror of the bathroom. Since that time back in May he had begged she wear his jacket again, especially in the bedroom. She had managed to keep his request at bay until tonight, although she would have agreed to any sort of physical intimacy at this point. The time for mourning had passed, and while a part of her would always miss and long for her friends, she also knew she couldn’t stop living. Not when there was so much work left to be done to make sure this wasn’t all for nothing. And technically there was nothing that stipulated she couldn’t enjoy herself in the process, right?

She let her palm rest against her stomach for a moment before reaching up to adjust the lapels on the leather jacket before brushing her hair off of her shoulders and onto her back. Taking a deep breath she exited the restroom. They had locked the front and back door at Hermione's insistence, just in case. She was grateful that Lily and James were allowing them to stay while Remus adjusted to her presence, but she did not feel like reliving the moment where James got to see her in her birthday suit just a couple weeks prior. She moved quickly down the hallway, doing her best to soften her footfall as she made a beeline for the guest room door. She slipped inside quickly, leaning back against the flat wooden surface as the door shut behind her with a soft snap.

Sirius had opted to strip to his boxers already, lounging beside the bed in a beige velvet armchair in a pair of very Gryffindor-red boxers that complimented his pale skin nicely. The inky tattoos that littered his skin beneath the light smattering of black hair glistened in the soft glow of dual candles that were lit on either side of the bed. He had obviously been eagerly awaiting her arrival, for the moment she walked into the room he greedily ran his eyes across her nearly nude form, paying particularly close attention to the way the swells of her unclothed breasts peaked out from beneath his jacket.

His bottom lip was bitten by the time his eyes reached her knickers, and she could hear him audibly intake air. “Circe,” he muttered under his breath as he licked his lips, allowing his eyes to trail up her body once more on their way to her face. He looked at her like he was a starving man, and she a feast that lay before him. She watch his gray eyes flicker to keep the animal inside him at bay as he struggled between pouncing on her instantly and waiting to enjoy the show he was about to receive.

“Where do you want me?” Her voice quivered with nervousness as she tugged at the bottom hem of his jacket, wishing it went down just a little further on her slender frame so it covered her behind completely.

“Everywhere,” he responded cockily as a wicked smile fell to his lips. “But we can start with you on the bed.” His hand swept in front of him to gesture to the center of the mattress in front of him.

She moved across the room silently, not yet finding her courage as she moved onto the bed, letting her knees sink into the plush comforter as she crawled to the center. When she reached the center she let her arse settle on the backs of her feet, kneeling with her thighs spread. She could feel the familiar pool of heat begin to settle in the bottom of her belly as she watched him adjust the chair to seat himself closer to the edge of the bed, his knees brushing against the comforter as he leaned forward to press his elbows on the tops of his thighs and leaned over to place his chin on top of his laced fingers. He wanted to make sure he did not miss a single thing she was going to do. He wanted to memorize every swell and dip of her body. Every blemish and freckle.

“Ready?” She broke the silence, tilting her head just slightly as she watched his gray eyes dilate at her words in anticipation. When he could only muster a nod in response, she could not help but blush. It wasn’t due to the fact she was about to expose herself to him in the most intimate way she knew how, but it was because he was so enraptured with her she had actually left him speechless. She had managed to silence Sirius Black, and it only took the promise of voyeurism.

It was now or never, and well, a promise was a promise, wasn’t it? Feeling slightly emboldened by the desire that was clearly written across his face she lifted her right hand she let it trail across the top of her right thigh, fingertips dancing across the tender skin as she worked her way up her leg. Sliding her fingertips to her inner thigh her breath began to quicken, body humming with anticipation when she finally let her finger slide across her lace-covered folds, feeling the moisture that had begun to pool against the fabric as a result of her own slow-building yearning.

Her index and middle fingers rubbed the length of her seam as she watched Sirius. His lips were parted just slightly, his eyes almost black as his pupils had dilated so wide. She could see his boxers begin to tent as a result of her actions, but he made no move to relieve his erection underneath. Instead his hands were laced under his chin firmly in place as he watched her left hand moved up across her belly, sliding the jacket away from her breasts, exposing her taut dusty rose nipples to the cold air of the room.

Her fingers lightly pinched at the peaks of her breasts, causing her to release a moan in response from the self induced pleasure as she slowly peeled her panties to the side, revealing a neatly trimmed patch of sodden curls to him. She slowly moved her hand away from her breast to join the other at the apex of her thighs, letting her index finger push against her clit, causing her breath to hitch in her throat.

As she began to rub slow circles over her pleasure center her hips rocked against her hand in time with her fingers. Her soft moans filled the room as her eyes fluttered closed, unable to stay open as her self-induced ecstasy washed over her body in waves. She let her finger slide further south until it slotted at her entrance and she slowly pushed into her body. Her chest heaved with breath as she began to pleasure herself before him on her knees, her delicate finger pumping slowly into her as she spread her thighs just a bit wider to provide more room for her hand to work. Her head lulled to the side as she let the jacket slip off of her shoulder, exposing her breasts to Sirius.

“Hermione,” his voice cracked, breaking her concentration and heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open. Sirius had moved closer to the bed, his hands planted on the mattress, fingers curling into the comforter. “Lay on your back...up here.” His hand uncurled from the comforter to pat the bed before him, just within his reach. This wasn’t a request; she could see the animal behind his eyes demand for the show to continue, but he wanted a front row seat to what was happening between her parted thighs.

Nodding her head she moved towards him as if under a spell, crawling on all fours until she reached his desired location. She sat down on her backside and planted her feet flat against the mattress before him. Before she could lay back on her elbows to get comfortable his hands went out, fingertips running up her outer thighs until he hooked her panties beneath his index fingers and slowly pulled them down, savoring the way the black lace peeled from her body as he worked them off her hips. She lifted her hips up just slightly when she felt him tug a bit to work the material over her arse and she couldn’t help but shiver as they slipped down her thighs, exposing herself almost entirely to him as he undressed her nether regions, leaving her nude except for his leather jacket.

She felt her knickers slip off her feet, but instead of tossing the lingerie to the floor he curled them up in his fist, his thumb rubbing against the soaked crotch to feel the moisture slide beneath his fingertips. She gulped as she watched him switch the fabric to his other hand before bringing his thumb to his lip and he pushed it past his lips. His eyes closed in euphoria as he tasted her desire. Brown eyes were glued to his hand, watching his tongue swirl against the pad of his thumb which caused her skin to tingle as images of what that mouth and tongue had done to her before wreaked havoc on her imagination. It wasn’t until his next command came that she broke from her erotic daydream.

“Put your feet on the arms of my chair.” He leaned back in the armchair, biting his bottom lip as he watched her process his request, and that crooked smile, the very same one she had come to love, washed over his features in response to a soft blush that twinged her cheeks. “Don’t be shy now, Little Bird.” His campfire smoke eyes smoldered with a silent challenge as he awaited her to follow his command.

Biting her bottom lip she scooted her body down until her ass sat directly upon the edge of the mattress. She took a deep breath to gather her courage before her right foot lifted. She planted it against the arm of the chair before the left followed to the opposite, and slowly she let her thighs drift apart, exposing herself entirely to his hungry gaze.

No further command was needed from Sirius, as she knew exactly what he wanted from her in this position. Her hand moved up from the mattress to brush across her trimmed curls once more, teasing her clit as she worked her other hand across her body to her breasts. She began a slow rhythm, alternating between rubbing her clit between the valley her index and middle finger created and massaging her breasts as she moaned on the bed. Her toes curled against the arms of the chair as she dipped a single finger into her sodden entrance once more.

Her moans grew louder as she began to work herself towards climax, hips rocking in time with her hand as she pumped her finger into her body, trying to mimic the way he would curl his fingers inside her to find that spot she knew would send her over the edge. She could hear his own breath quicken, and movement coming from the chair, but she could not bring herself to crack open her eyes until she heard her name whispered from his lips in a breathy moan.

Lifting her head off the bed she let her eyes slide open and she sucked in her breath as she watched his fist curled around his cock, pumping in time with her fingers as he watched her pleasure herself. His other hand was still curled around her discarded panties, clutching them tightly as he ran the pad of his thumb across the top of his cock. She felt a gush of liquid push against her fingers as her eyes widened at the erotic image before her. “Sirius,” she breathed out.

His lust filled gaze snapped up to her face from his concentration between her parted thighs as his name tumbled off her lips and that was all it took to break what little self control he still held. He moved quickly out of the chair, letting her panties and his boxers drop to the floor as he crawled over her. His lithe body pressed against hers as his mouth captured her lips in a hungry kiss.

He did not ask for permission as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, brushing against hers with a fever that caused a shiver to run down her spine as her hands wound into his shaggy hair, holding his kiss in place. Her feet moved from the arms of the chair to the mattress, allowing her more leverage as she pushed her hips against his to feeling his hard member brush against the apex of her thighs, causing them both the moan in response.

Hermione slipped her hands from his hair, letting her palms travel down his jawline and neck to place themselves against his chest, and she pushed against his hard body until he followed her lead and rolled over. She shivered as his hands ran down her sides until he reached her arse. His fingers curled into the soft supple flesh of her backside, giving it a squeeze as a groan was pushed into their kiss.

Her mouth broke from his causing him to emit a small whine in protest until her lips locked onto his neck and she slowly began to snake her way down his body. Lips and tongue lavished each tattoo and scar with attention as she worked her way across the plains of his chest and abdomen until she reached his navel. Brown eyes flashed up to his as she felt him shift up on his elbows to watch her as she worked her way closer towards his lower half.

When her tongue darted out and dipped into the shallow pool of his navel, she heard him hiss with pleasure and she couldn’t help but flash him a cocky smirk that was similar to one he wore so often. She kissed her way down the trail of hair from his abdomen to his cock and her hand slowly wrapped around the thick base of his member as she settled between his parted legs, her stomach laying flat against the mattress.

“Hermione,” he rasped, watching her with hooded eyes as she began to slowly stroke her hand up and down his length, fingers rubbing against the velvety smooth skin experimentally. “Fuck,” he whispered “Don’t stop,” he encouraged her through parted lips, drinking in the image of her as she let her tongue dip from her mouth to run across the weeping head of his cock.

She heard her name fall from his lips once more as her mouth wrapped around the head of his member, slowly enveloping him in her warm mouth. Her tongue lavished the underside of his cock as she let her head dip low to take as much of his length as she could. She could feel the head of his length brush against the back of her throat as she began to bob her head up and down over him, her hand moving in time with her head to bring him closer to climax. Her free hand moved from the mattress to rest against his flat stomach, feeling the way the muscles of his abdomen would spasm in response to the pleasure he was receiving.

She felt his finger snake through her short curls, his nails scraping lightly against her scalp as he held tight, moaning her praises to Merlin, Circe and Nimune. She could feel his entire body tense as she brought her mouth around just the head of his cock, her fist still pumping a fast rhythm to his shaft as her tongue ran around and across his tip, silently enjoying the way expletives tumbled off of his lips in response.

“Fuck. Hermione… Hermione stop. If you don’t I’m going to come,” he rasped, and reaching down he slowly peeled her away from her attention to his manhood. As much as it pained him to stop the pleasure he was receiving, she knew he wasn’t ready to end their night’s activities so quickly. As he held her face in his hands, his thumb swept across her swollen bottom lip. “Come up here.”

Drawing her up until her body lay flat against his, his mouth found hers once more. His hands slowly peeled his leather jacket from her body and he tossed it onto the floor before rubbing his palms against her satin skin. He slowly scooted them back across the bed until his head hit the pillows and he broke their kiss. “Sit up,” he whispered against her chin, teeth nipping at her delicate jawline.

Her heart raced as she pushed off of his chest until she straddled his lower abdomen. She felt his hands curl around her hips and her breath caught as he pulled her up his body instead of lower. She slid across his torso as he worked his shoulders beneath her knees until she sat on his chest. Her right hand went down to cover her sex instinctively while the left went out to brace herself against the headboard of the bed. “Sirius, what are you--”

Lifting his head off the mattress he leaned forward and nipped at her fingers covering his prize, nose attempting to nudge her hand out of the way. “You’re suddenly modest?” he breathed his question as his hands ran across her lower back.

“I--....No” She slowly lifted her hand from her sex, cheeks flushing as she felt him press softly on her back to move her body until she was practically sitting on his face. Just as she opened her mouth to protest this position his tongue slipped between her folds and she gasped at the intensity of the feeling. He wasted no time in finding her clit, his tongue lapping against it hungrily as he ground his chin against her opening.

Her fingers curled into the soft wood of the headboard, gripping it for stability as her other hand dropped to the top of his head to encourage him as her fingers wound into his shaggy black locks as she cried out in pleasure. She began to rock her hips in time with his mouth, unable to help herself as she felt him push her so deliriously close to the edge.

His hands gripped her arse tightly, encouraging her unbridled need for release as he wrapped his lips around her clit and began to suck. It was the final push needed to send her toppling into oblivion. His name was like a prayer on her lips as she let her orgasm wave over her body, completely enraptured by his mouth. She could hear the headboard creak as she clung to it like it was her anchor to the real word, worried she might float away in the waves of pleasure if she dared let go.

Sirius continued his attention to her pussy, letting her ride the waves of orgasm on his face as he ran his tongue down to her entrance, feeling it pulse as each drudging wave of orgasm rocked her petite frame. His hands moved from her arse to her waist once she was over the crest of her release, carefully hoisting her quivering body off his chest, and he brought her down onto the mattress beside him. Reaching up his fingers slipped into the curls on the side of her head and he brought her down to kiss him.

She could taste herself on his tongue and feel her essence on his cheeks and chin. Under normal circumstances she might have been embarrassed, but right now it felt almost sinfully erotic. Small hands went to his shoulders and she tugged on his body until he lay on top of her, pinning her small frame into the plush mattress. She bent her legs at the knee, soft thighs cushioning against his narrow hips as he shifted above her to rub his swollen length against her.

His name was moaned into his mouth as she shivered, feeling his cock line up at her entrance and she bit his bottom lip, practically humming with anticipation until he pushed his length into her. Their kiss was broken as they both gasped in pleasure, their noses and foreheads brushing against one another. She felt his fingers curl into her hair on either side of her head, his body being held up by his elbows planted just above her shoulders and his knees.

He began a slow pace, withdrawing from her almost entirely before pushing back inside her wanting core, purposefully dragging out her pleasure as he hit a spot inside her that made her moans louder each time. He wanted to savor the way she could cling to him as he pushed inside her body, her breathy moans of his name and the way her nails would scrape against his shoulders involuntarily. He wanted to never forget how she looked, cheeks flushed and wild curls.

His head pulled back from hers and heavy lidded eyes cracked open to watch her face contort in pleasure as he ground his hips against hers in a slow circle. His left hand fell to her thigh, slowly curling under her knee as he lifted her leg up higher, allowing him more leverage as he picked up the pace, intent on bringing her to climax once more before allowing his own to overtake him.

She was lost in the moment, her body a slave to the pleasure he gave her as he wound her up to tumble over the edge. Her throat burned as her moans grew louder, eyes shutting tight, and then he called her name, begging her to open her eyes so they could watch each other come apart. Brown eyes fluttered open to connect with his and she nearly came undone instantly. His cheeks were crimson, a light sweat matted the baby fine hairs at his brow and he was looking at her like she was his Mona Lisa. His masterpiece that he never wanted to part with.

It only took three more thrusts and he brought her to another climax, her body trembling from the adrenaline rush of orgasm as they came together, her release a catalyst for his. She felt her pussy spasm around his member as he drove his seed into her body, until finally he stilled against her in an attempt to catch his breath, his hips flat against hers leaving his cock buried deep inside her as his head dropped to her shoulder.

As he lay on top of her, his lips brushed against the sweat slick skin of her shoulder and collarbone. His tongue dipped out to taste her salty skin as he kissed her in silent reverie. “Sirius,” she mumbled softly, her head tilting back against the mattress to allow him more access to her neck as his kisses move up her body. When he only mumbled a soft ‘mmm’ in response against her neck she let out a soft laugh. “That was--”

“Incredible? Amazing?” Each adjective was provided between kisses to her neck, his husky breath tickling her ear. “Sexy?”

She laughed at each word he spoke that did not quite define her feelings on what they had just done. “Naughty.” When he pulled back to look down at her face, his fingers brushing her curls against the mattress, she smiled up to him. Her head cocked slightly to the side as she watched his eyes twinkle playfully in the soft light of the room. It was moments like these, where they got lost looking at one another, that she could almost completely forget about the war, and the real reason she was sent back in time.

“Does that mean you didn’t enjoy it?”

As she considered his question, her brow knitted slightly before she shook her head from side to side. “No. It was very, very enjoyable,” she responded decidedly, her hands moving across his shoulders and down his chest, stroking against the soft black hair of his chest “That doesn’t negate the fact it was still risque, though.”

Sirius chuffed in response, smirking down to his contrary witch as he shifted above her just slightly, withdrawing his softened manhood from her body as he moved. She couldn’t help but feel empty as he withdrew from her despite their closeness. “Does that mean you won’t do it again then?” He rolled onto the bed beside her, his body bouncing against the mattress as he pressed his body against her side. His arm wrapped around her waist to draw her in as close as possible and his fingers curled around her hip, thumb stroking softly against the purple scar left from Dolohov’s curse that marred her skin.

She lifted her arms above her head to provide him more access to pet the skin at her side, her fingers twisting the ends of her curls in thought as she rubbed her lips together before looking to her left towards him. “Only if you’re the one putting on the show next time.” The tip of her tongue pressed against her incisor as she smiled wickedly in his direction.

His throaty laugh filled the room at her response to his question, his own crooked grin flashing her way in response to the alluring smile on Hermione’s face. “What am I going to do with you, Little Bird?” he questioned as he propped himself up onto his elbow, his hand cupping the side of his head.

“Corrupt me some more?” she suggested as she reached out with her right hand to push his sweaty fringe off his forehead. She had less than twenty days remaining before she would have to return to her timeline and face whatever fallout she had caused, and she was bound and determined not to spend any more of the precious minutes left in tears, for she knew that her departure from 1979 would most decidedly not be a happy one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, I'm going to blame this chapter's smut break on my alpha, KnitKnitRead, who helped me with deciding what sort of naughty things Sirius would want Hermione to do (or technically this time, perform). I hope you all enjoy the next couple chapters, as I'm having an absolute blast writing and plotting them. Hermione's time is slipping through her hourglass quickly, so she is going to make the most of her time with Sirius and the Maurader's before she has to face the music. Stay tuned for some more heartbroken werewolf, awkward Peter, and fluff in the near future. ~ MM


	20. Long Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling

**June 20th, 1979 - Godric’s Hollow - 13:00**

Remus stood in front of the kitchen sink with one arm crossed over his chest while the other was lifted with his hand at his mouth. He chewed on his thumbnail as he looked out the window, studying the scene before him in bitter contemplation. In the backyard Sirius, Hermione, James and Peter were playing (or attempting to play) Muggle croquet. Lily had owled him earlier that day and told him to bring his parents’ old set so they could have a bit of fun before the summer rains began. When he received the request he was originally eager to participate, but his mood instantly soured the moment _she_ came down from the second floor landing at Sirius’ boisterous call.

Since his return from Germany Lily had insisted on hosting these ‘family dinners’ weekly. The first couple went unattended by a certain curly-haired witch. Her presence was not missed as far as he was concerned, but this time she was present and clearly was making no attempt to leave the home to provide their group of friends a chance to spend uninterrupted time together. A scoff was given as he watched Sirius and James dance around the yard swinging the mallets at each other like Beaters’ bats, much to the dismay of Peter and Hermione who were busy arranging the metal posts in the soft grass. Remus shook his head as he turned his back to the window, and he leaned back on the sink to turn his attention back to Lily who was busy chopping up vegetables at the kitchen table for the salad.

“Are you really going to pretend you don’t want to go outside and join them?” Lily questioned as a thin brow was lifted towards Remus. She set the knife down upon the cutting board, letting it rest beside the tomato that was halfway diced. Grabbing the red kitchen towel that sat next to the board she began to dry her hands on the soft cotton.

“No,” he replied defensively, dropping his thumb from his mouth so his arm could join the other across his chest. “I don’t feel like playing. Besides, the set only has four mallets. If I joined two of us would have to share and it would slow down the game.” The explanation was half-assed at best and he knew it, but he couldn’t very well tell her he had zero intention of going outside to join his friends while that Anne Boleyn-wizard stealing witch was present.

Lily did nothing to prevent Remus from seeing her eyes roll at the shoddy excuse he gave. “Remus, you were excited to teach them how to play twenty minutes ago, are you really going to expect me to believe that? You know you’ve always been a shit liar. The worst of you lot,” she reminded as she pushed up from the chair. She crossed the kitchen with a slow determination, tossing the kitchen towel on the countertop to Remus’ left as she peered over his shoulder to look out the window. James and Sirius had moved from mutual self-destruction to conspiring against poor Peter. Having magically levitated the brightly colored wooden balls, they were sending them towards the smallest Marauder, who was wildly swinging his own mallet in an attempt to fend off the attacking balls before they made contact with his body. Hermione had given up on trying to start the game and instead was standing on the opposite side of the yard, doing her best to avoid the occasional rogue croquet ball while trying to convince the pair to stop it before someone (namely her) got hurt in the crossfire of their decidedly juvenile play. A soft breath was expelled through Lily’s nose as her lips pursed thin as she pulled back. Her eyes narrowed on her friend’s face skeptically, watching the way he purposely diverted his eyes away from her in an attempt to not betray his feelings and give away the real reason he was not joining the fun out back.

“Its her, isn't it? You two have been avoiding each other since Arthur’s funeral.”

“No.”

“Remus….”

“Okay, fine. Yes. Yes it's because of _her_ , is that what you wanted to hear? I am avoiding going out back to seeing my friends because she is out there stinking up the yard and I don’t want to be around Sirius when he’s---”

“Did you just say stinking? As in, she smells?” Lily questioned incredulously, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline as disbelief washed over her. He couldn’t have just said that, right? Remus, the most scensible one of the group, could not dislike someone for such a trivial reason.

His nostrils flared in response to her questions of clarification as a crimson blush crept on his his cheeks. He took a moment to set his jaw, his arms uncrossing over his chest so he could shove his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Yes,” he replied flatly, as if Lily’s question was the most absurd thing he had heard. “She smells funny.”

“Oh, silly me for thinking you were being irrational. Come on, Remus,” Lily scoffed as she shook her head. "You cannot seriously dislike her just because she uses a different shampoo or something."

“No, I don’t dislike her per se. I just don’t trust her. You all barely know her and suddenly Sirius won’t come back to the flat because he wants to stay the night with her, and  you’re inviting her over for Marauder dinners,” he listed off, chewing on his bottom lip in thought as the various superficial reasons he did not like her floated through his mind, the biggest one being that she was dating the man he was very much still in love with. “And...yes, part of it is because she smells funny, okay? But when has Moony ever been wrong, Lily?”

“Oh I don’t know, Remus. Let me think.” Her index finger was tapped on her lips in mock thought as her eyes lifted to the ceiling. Seconds later, as if an imaginary light bulb went off in her head she looked back to her friend. “Maybe that one time you almost ate Peter? Or how about that other time you swore saw Runespoor in the Forbidden Forest?”

“You weren’t there, you don’t know what I saw,” he defended quickly, interrupting her diatribe on the many times Moony was, in fact, wrong.

“It was a branch, Remus,” Lily quipped flatly as her hands went to her hips. “This is not the point though! The point is you cannot dislike her without getting to know her. You are being absolutely ridiculous.”

Remus huffed in his friend’s direction before crossing his arms over his chest in silent protest as his jaw set and brow knitted. She couldn’t be serious? Get to know her? That was like asking a cat and a dog not to fight. That curly haired seductress had done nothing but cause complications for him since he met her. Which, yes, was only just a couple days ago. And technically speaking she lead the party that rescued him, but it did not matter. She was a thorn in his side and he had zero intention of ‘getting to know’ Hermione Granger if he could help it.

Just as Lily opened her mouth to scold her friend’s childish behavior, the back door creaked open and Sirius sauntered in. He was laughing, looking over his shoulder into the backyard telling them he’d be right back with drinks before he looking forward to Lily and Remus who stood across the small kitchen squared off. His smile didn’t falter, but the playful sparkle from his eyes did fade just slightly. “You guys should come out back. I think we’re really getting this croak-ett thing down.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder to the door.

“Croquet,” Remus corrected. “And from what I saw, you are all far from actual play. You’re newest conquest is a Muggleborn isn’t she? She should know better.”

“On that note, I am leaving.” Throwing her hands up Lily spun on her heel, giving Sirius a sympathetic look, muttering something about ‘you need to fix this’ under her breath as she passed him. Stopping by the cooler before exiting, she grabbed four bottles of Butterbeer and the bottle opener.

Sirius averted his gaze to Lily, watching her escape out the back door before he looked back over to Remus. Awkwardly he crossed the room, his hands sliding into his back pockets as he got closer to his friend. “How are you holding up? You haven’t responded to my owls.” Sirius had written Remus on more than one occasion since his return. Hell, he even showed up to the flat once but after Remus’ bedroom door was rudely slammed in his face, he figured it best to provide him some sort of space to process his feelings. He knew James, Lily, Peter and Frank had taken it upon themselves to check in with the werewolf multiple times a day, using excuses to visit the flat to make sure he was never alone for too long. While Sirius was grateful to know the group of friends were so willing to step up when needed, he couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous what Remus was willing to allow them close when all he had done is push him away since returning.

Remus looked away from Sirius, his eyes burning a hole into the opposite wall of the kitchen. At the question his heart panged in protest. Of course he wanted to respond to the letters, or come over and curl up in Sirius’ arms and tell him all the details of the months gone by. He wanted to be comforted by his oldest friend, but he also wanted that same friend to kiss his wounds and make promises of protecting him from the future harm that was sure to come. He wanted more than just friendship; he longed for the intimacy of a relationship with him once more. The battle they had all been fighting since graduation had only grown into a full-blown war in his absence, and the end was nowhere in sight.

At the purposeful lack of response from his friend, Sirius dropped his eyes to the floor. Gray eyes stared at his bare feet for a moment before he glanced back up to the sandy-blond werewolf, peering at him through the fringe of inky black locks that hung in his eyes. “Moony, can’t we just talk? Like we used to? I want to know what happened to you in Germany. I want to make sure you’re okay. You’re still my friend.” His voice was barely above a whisper, dripping with longing to get close to the man that used to be inseparable from him. He knew this change from intimate to platonic was hard on Remus; the transition was hard on Sirius too, and this was well before Hermione tumbled into his life like the Hogwarts Express at full speed. She had managed to single-handedly infiltrate his thoughts before they had even shared a single kiss. He ended his romance with Remus because they knew would never last, they weren’t meant to be together. And now this feeling he had--whatever this intoxicating consuming fire that burned in his veins every time he was around Hermione was called--he knew without a doubt it would have never worked with Remus, but how could he explain that to him? How could he articulate that there was still space in his heart for Remus, just not in the same sense as it was a few months ago? Sirius felt stuck within a crossfire that ultimately wounded both sides of his heart.

“You want to know?” Remus questioned, his fingers curling into his biceps, fingertips pushing divots into his skin. “It was the worst time in my fucking life Sirius. Worse than when Fenrir snuck into my room and bit me. Worse than my mum passing away, and worse than my first Christmas alone because my Dad didn’t want me around anymore because he said I looked too much like her,” he snapped, yellow eyes flashing over to Sirius heatedly. “I tried to move in with a pack who treated me like dirt because I wasn’t one of them. I was attacked, not given food and left to sleep on the fucking ground, and this was before the Death Eaters showed up and they sold me to them like I was a piece of furniture.”

Sirius watched his friend unravel like a tightly wound top. Remus’ eyes held none of the beautiful jade that they had moments ago, as all sense of composure was lost on his friend as he spat his experiences during his missing months at him. “Remus.”

“You know what happened next Sirius? I was dragged across Europe by some fucked up wizards with a complex, my wand broken and tortured. They chained me in a bloody fucking room with no windows and tossed scraps of food at me like I was an animal. It was never enough to fill my stomach, no...but it was just enough to keep me alive because some sick fuck decided I didn’t need to die yet. But that isn’t the worst part of it.” Remus had advanced on Sirius, backing him against the countertop while he told the details of his horrors, his hands clenched at his sides in anger. “While all this happened--he curses, the hunger and the pain--I held on to some stupid fucking hope you would want me when I came back. That you would realise you had made a mistake and you still loved me.”

“I do love you...it’s not that I don’t--”

“You know what I mean Sirius, don’t play dumb. You‘ve never looked at me the way you do her.” Remus was nearly toe to toe with Sirius at this time, letting the powerful emotion that unrequited love caused within him to take hold. “Do you know how that feels, Sirius? To realise the person you know you are supposed to be with doesn’t feel the same? You were mine until she came into the picture!”

Sirius shook his head quickly as his own jaw set Remus’ claim. “That’s not fair Remus. You can’t do that, don’t drag Hermione into something that was in motion months ago.” He slipped from in front of Remus, his shoulder brushing against the werewolf’s as he moved to put some space between them. “Moony, I was never yours to claim. It was never going to---”

“You were mine first! The first fucking choice I got to make in my entire life!” Remus snapped, his hand slamming down on the countertop that was in front causing a loud bang that echoed around the kitchen. He could feel his magic tingle under his skin in response to the outburst. Remus shut his eyes tight as he began to take deep breaths as he tried to will himself to calm down.

“I’m not your bleedin’ mate and you know it!!” Sirius watched the way Remus’ body rose and fell with each deep breath that wracked through his body. This conversation was months overdue, and stupidly he hoped that time would have allowed some sort of healing to occur, but it was obvious they both still harbored feelings about their inevitable breakup months prior. Sirius reached up, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as his own deep breath was taken before he continued, except this time his tone was much softer, more in tune with the bittersweet memory that was being brought up. “Moony….you told me after our first night together that you knew I wasn’t your mate. That what we had was special, but it was like a part of you was empty and you were hoping I would have filled it. You said you weren’t sure you would ever find somebody that filled that spot in your soul because I was your best shot at it. Gods Moony, that’s not fucking love. You shouldn’t feel incomplete.”

“Do you know the chances of me ever finding my mate, Sirius?” Remus slid his hand across the countertop, feeling the contours of the tile glide beneath his fingertips as he listened to the painful memory Sirius retold. How could he forget? It was Remus’ first time, and Sirius’ first time with a bloke. They had spent the night in a dusty old classroom that had been transformed into a makeshift bedroom, learning each others’ bodies and taking their time finding release multiple times. He never meant to tell Sirius that despite the bliss that what they done had brought him, he couldn’t help but feel hollow. Like a mug half-filled, never knowing if it would ever become full. He knew then it was a mistake to tell him, but they had just done the most intimate thing he had ever experienced in his seventeen years, and he felt like he owed it to his boyfriend--no, best friend to be honest. To let him know why some part of him would always have to hold back, because it was unintentional. He wanted to give himself entirely to Sirius, but he just couldn’t. “I was okay with how I felt, how you made me feel. I might never find my mate, so filling that void isn’t really an option.”

“But is should be! Bloody hell Moony, can’t you fucking see that? You deserve to find that person! The person who makes your heart race the moment they walk into the room. Like they stole the sunshine from the sky, because everything around them seems gray in comparison. And Merlin, when they smile at you….you feel like you could just float away because you know you were able to make them happy, even if just for a moment.  They make waking up each morning worth it, because you want to spend one more day together. You deserve that, you deserve to find that fucking person.”

Remus’ heart throbbed in agony at Sirius’ words, because he knew he was right. He never felt like that about Sirius. During their relationship it was like he was on edge the entire time, waiting for the next shoe to drop so he could prepare himself for pain. Like he was waiting to weather a storm that was moments away from engulfing him the second he put his guard down. Love, true love, wasn’t like that. It wasn’t demanding, or violent or so bloody painful. His tongue darted out to drag across his lips before he turned to look over to Sirius. “Does she make you feel like that?”

“This isn’t about her. This is about you and me.”

“Just answer the question...does she make you feel like that?”

Gray eyes darted between Remus’ still-yellow irises in silent debate. He wasn’t sure if it was the right action to divulge his own complex feelings regarding his girlfriend, but he couldn’t lie to him. Not after everything that had been through. “Yes…she makes me feel like that. She makes me feel like I did right before my first Quidditch match, like my brain knows it's scary, but my heart wants that rush.” Reaching up Sirius pushed both hands through his hair to move it out of his face, fingers curling against the back of his neck as he let out a heavy sigh. “Moony. I never meant to hurt you. I just….you deserve to find someone who will make you feel like that. Like I never could.”

Remus’ own hand went up, petting his sandy blond hair forward on the top of his head as he let his eyes drop the floor. He could feel the beast inside fade as the tension from their long overdue conversation began to evaporate from the room, leaving only the perplexing question of how they’d go on from here. “I’ll never forgive you, ya know?” Glancing up, somber jade green eyes locked onto the campfire smoke irises that reflected their own sorrow back. “For breaking my heart….and leaving me to shack up with a woman.”

Sirius nodded, a half-smirk tugging up on the right corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t expect any less,” he agreed. “But can you try? Because I kind of miss my friend….and I want to come home.”

Remus let out a small huff as he leaned back on the countertop, his hands coming to rest behind him on the lip of the tile. “I can try…” he agreed. He had to try, right? Because despite being angry and hurt by the loss of his first (and only) relationship, if he shut Sirius out completely, the loss of not having him around might be worse. He missed having him in their shared flat, having that confidant to turn to, and the person who would help care for him after every full moon. Knowing now that Sirius felt so strongly about that curly haired witch, he knew he had to let go of the possibility of a future together romantically, but that didn’t mean he had to eliminate the possibility of sharing any sort of future with him. “But you owe me a lot of chocolate…..Like tons. Truckloads.”

“Truckloads?” Sirius questioned, allowing a small laugh to escape his lips. “Moony. I think you forget, I’m a pureblood. We do not sully our status by using common Muggle phrases. I daresay I don’t understand that term ‘truckload’,” he joked. His hand twitched just slightly, wanting to reach out to pull him into an embrace, but he still wasn't sure of the limits set. He dare not press his luck and make Remus change his mind.

“Well you’d besmirched the name of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black long before I defiled your conscience with silly Muggle phrases....besides, you are dating a Muggleborn, aren’t you? Ask for her help with the proper amount of a truckload and then….then you can come home.” Remus couldn’t help but return the small grin to his friend, his walls beginning to crumble. “You can even bring Anne Boleyn with you, I guess. But I’m not agreeing to be nice to her!"

“Anne Bo--What?” Sirius cocked his head to the left, puzzled by the unfamiliar name.

It was Remus’ turn to laugh. Shaking his head he took two steps towards his friend, pausing just before him and he reached out and pulled the shorter man into a hug. “Forget it. Just come home. Preferably with chocolate.”

Sirius let his arms slide around his friend, slipping underneath his arms as he hugged him around the middle. “So….we’re okay?” he questioned as he tucked his head against the crook of Remus’ neck. It was still borderline intimate, but perhaps that was how their relationship would always be? Their fates had been interwoven long before they had ever met. Personal trauma in their own private lives had broken each boy down long before they graced the halls of Hogwarts, but they had found each other and slowly pulled one another back from a consuming darkness. They had James and Peter too, but the connection Sirius and Remus shared was indescribable, and perhaps that is why both felt it only fair to explore the connection they had during their final year at school. It was love, but not the type of love you have to your spouse (or mate). Not the sunshine-stealing, floating feeling Sirius had described earlier. No, it was like they were soulmates. Like one without the other would be incomplete. A piece of a puzzle that neither knew existed until they were separated for too long.  Relationships could come and go, but they would always need one another. This was something Hermione, or any future relationship that either Marauder found themselves in, would need to understand. They were a package deal.

“We’re getting there,” Remus whispered into the top of Sirius’ head, fingers stroking softly against the shaggy hair on the back of his neck, closing his eyes for a moment as the last bits of sadness regarding the loss of his romantic relationship floated away. Pulling back from the hug, Remus smoothed his hands over Sirius’ shoulders, smoothing the wrinkles in the soft cotton as he placed a more appropriate amount of distance between them. “So… a woman? Really?”

Sirius snorted softly, a crooked smile flashing towards Sirius before he nodded, taking a step back towards the fridge to retrieve a drink for both of them. “You know, for someone who considered themselves very much on the straight and narrow until I had your cock in my mouth, I’d say you’re rushing to judgement a little too quickly there. Don’t knock it until you try it,” he teased as he opened the cooler, turning his back to Remus.

Remus’ cheeks flushed crimson, his eyes averting to the kitchen window. “I didn’t know any better...besides, women are complicated. I mean, look at Lily and James. She hated him until suddenly she didn’t. I don’t think I can figure that out.”

Sirius withdrew two bottles of beer, twisting the caps off as he nudged the fridge door closed with his hip before he floated one across the room to Remus. “You’ve only been with one person, Moony. I know I’ll be hard to beat in the ‘best lay you’ve ever had’ department, but you never know who your mate is. Could be anyone.” Shrugging he lifted the bottle to his lips.

Curling his fingers around the cold beverage as he plucked it from the air, Remus looked back over to Sirius. “Yeah. I could get real lucky and they could be a relative of yours. Then we can properly sully your family's name together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been debating if I should have make you all wait until Saturday for this, as the following chapter is giving me some grief. I am hoping to have another one for you by this weekend, but we will see if I can find the time to finish it. In other news, I am starting to develop a new aesthetic for those who found this story via facebook and tumblr! I am wanting to update with a couple fancasts I have, but it is not my forte, so be patient, it should be coming soon. As always, thank you for the lovely reviews (and even the shitty ones ;P You know who you are). I have had a couple questions about if she will be going back soon, and yes. I am anticipating about 3 more chapters until she returns to deal with the changes in the future. Stick around, it's going to get real complicated here soon. ~ MM


	21. Newspapers and Very Strong Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 23st, 1979 - Puddlemere - 07:30**

Hermione leaned back on the kitchen counter as she held a warm mug of Earl Grey in both hands. Short curls hung loosely around her face as she puckered her lips to blow softly at the steam that rolled up from the tea. Sirius has returned to the Puddlemere flat a day before she followed, using an excuse of wanting to tidy up the guest room before leaving to allow the friends a moment in their home before she invaded. Sirius had insisted Remus was okay with her staying with them until she returned back to 1999, but she had a funny feeling that Sirius had embellished that fact to get her to agree to staying over.

Taking a small sip of amber liquid, she let the bergamot orange flavor permeate in her mouth for a moment before swallowing it down. She had had a late night, staying up past midnight pouring over newspapers around England, Muggle and Wizarding alike, in an attempt to pinpoint the location of some upcoming Death Eater activity. She was kicking herself for not coming more prepared, but the decision to stay past Kingsley’s time limit was not exactly well-planned out was it? Crossing the room her bare feet sunk into the soft carpet as she moved to the rolltop desk in the corner which she had the papers strewn across.

Her fingertips glided across newspaper clippings she had read what felt like hundreds of times before, except here they were new, only a couple days old instead of years. She was wearing a knit jumper of Sirius’, the same gray one she had been favoring recently because it reminded her of the color of his eyes, so deeply beautiful and rich. A pair of jean shorts were selected because despite the recent rains, the evenings tended to become far too humid for comfort. She had dressed in a hurry after a quick shower, not wanting to turn on the light in the bedroom and disrupt her boyfriend’s slumber.

Reaching out she picked up a copy of The Daily Telegraph from three days prior. As she lifted it up her eyes scanned a small article on the back page. The journalist was covering some strange activity happening around London. Flocks of owls covering the city in broad daylight, the summer storms that seemed to carry on longer than normal, and the recent uptick in missing persons. She had lived through this one before to know this was the work of Death Eaters, but pinpointing their location in a sprawling city was difficult, even with magic.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts as she read the article she did not hear Remus’ bedroom door open down the hall. Dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a dingy white shirt, the sleepy werewolf moved down the hallway. He woke up earlier to the sound of the running water from the shared bathroom and knew immediately the insufferable witch was the blame. Sirius would rarely rise before 10:00 if he could help it, and the clock read 06:45 when he was rudely awaken.

Moving through the living room to the kitchen he didn't even grunt a hello towards her. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he spotted a pot of tea already sitting on the counter. Of course she would make herself right at home. His only consolation was that she had selected his least favorite pot; it was painted with a disgusting blue floral pattern that reminded him of the wallpaper in his Great Aunt Muriel’s home. As a small child he would sit quietly on her couch eating stale biscuits while his parents made their biweekly visits to the old witch who was the last remaining elder in the Lupin family. She made no qualms about her disappointment in Lyall marrying a Muggle girl, often remaking that Remus ought to consider himself lucky that he favored his father’s side of the family in appearance and magical prowess.  _ ‘Wouldn’t want people thinking you were a Mudblood, would we?’ _ she would quip as her wrinkly weathered hand pinched the flesh of his cheek. This was the first memory Remus could have where he realised how utterly stupid blood prejudice was. His mother was the epitome of beauty, with her long beautiful auburn waves, and bright blue eyes. She was far from being the filthy disgusting things Great Aunt Muriel spoke of. His mother, the supposed blight on his family's pitiful name, would take the remarks with a grace he only hoped he could possess one day. She would smile sweetly towards the crotchety old hag and pour another cup of Earl Gray before asking about the weather, or how her garden was coming long. If being a half-blood meant he was able to be half as gracious as his mother was, then he could only be so lucky, because clearly the other half of his inherited personality traits were showing in full swing in the present. Lifting the lid he peered at the amber liquid and sniffed at the steam that was emitted. “You’ve made it too strong.” 

Hermione jumped at his words, glancing over her shoulder in surprise to see the sleepy boyish version of her future professor. “Godric, you scared me. I didn’t even hear you get up.” Setting the paper down on the rolltop, she turned to lean back on the desk. She watched as he placed the lid back on the pot roughly, causing the porcelain to clang in protest. “I’m used to finishing the pot before Sirius wakes up so I made it for my taste. I did not realize you were an early riser.”

“Well I would rather be asleep….” he muttered under his breath as he filled the kettle before setting it back on the now-ignited burner to brew himself a more palatable pot. He heard her heavy footfalls approach as she move across the living room towards the kitchen. When the sound of the ceramic mug scraping across the countertop behind him gave way to her exact location, he still did not turn to face her. Instead he brought his hands to his face in an attempt to rub some of the sleep away and block the unfamiliar, and nauseating,  scent of Hermione Granger from invading his senses.

“Did I wake you?” Her index finger danced around the rim of the mug as brown eyes studied his form behind him. He looked so much younger now than when she knew him, even more so than Sirius. She wondered if premature aging was a side effect from the lycanthropy, or if his years during the first war had added the extra worry lines around his eyes by the time she met him in her youth. “You know, instead of making a new pot, you can always just add some more water to the one I made. I won’t mind,” she offered.

“How gracious of you. So willing to accomodate my tastes when you’re staying in my flat, using my tea pot and drinking from my mug.” He paused his filling the loose leaf into a tea strainer to let the words sink in for a moment, making no attempt to hide his snark. Snapping the mesh ball closed he deposited into a white teapot that had been summoned from the top shelf magically, letting it serve as a final punctuation to his crisp sentence. “As tempting as your offer sounds, I’ll make my own.”

Hermione averted her gaze as he turned from the counter and began to make his way towards the cupboard she knew contained the sugar and honey, as she did not want to let him know that she had been watching him. Bringing her mug to her lips she took a small sip before setting it down on the counter, letting the action curb her gut reaction to snap back. “I’d like to get to you know you, Remus. They’ve all told me some great stories about you. I think we might actually get along...” Brown eyes lifted away from her gaze on the mug in her hands and to her surprise, he had turned his attention to her. 

“Well I would like to not have a stranger in my flat. So we all want things we don’t get.” His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back on the counter, eyeing the witch curiously. He could see what Sirius found appealing, she was pretty enough, and Sirius had had a thing for curly hair since taking that 6th year to Hogsmeade when they were just fourteen. But there was something about her Remus couldn’t quite put his finger on that made his hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. It was like Moony was telling him she didn’t belong, like she was hiding something so vastly important and the rest of his friends were just too trusting to notice.

“I’m trying not to be a stranger, but you’re making it nearly impossible to accomplish that,” she replied quickly as her brows knitted together when the corners of her mouth flattened in a small frown. She knew that befriending Remus was not going to be an easy task, but she had never in her wildest dreams assumed him to be so rude. “Look. I get it. You don’t like me, but--”

“There are no ‘buts’. You can end that sentence right there and it would fit the bill.”

Her lips pursed just slightly at his words. The professor she knew would have never been so cross! When did Remus Lupin jump to judgment so quickly? He had always been so level-headed when she knew him, even standing up for Dumbledore’s trust in Snape when questions of loyalty arose during the final years of the second war, despite his personal feelings about him. He was most decidedly not the man she knew, and perhaps it was naive of her to assume that some of the rapport he had with her in the future would be here now, but it was obvious this Remus had no intention of allowing her into his inner circle of confidants without earning her place. This Remus was not Professor Lupin. “I am not asking to be your friend, but I think it best that we figure out how to work together because the reason I’m here is bigger than some hurt feelings.”

Remus lifted a single brow as he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side. “Do tell me, Hermione, what is the reason you’re here? Because I have yet to hear a good explanation. And while you’re at it, where the bleeding hell are you from? Because unlike my friends, I remember Hogwarts and I wouldn’t have forgotten someone like you.”

Hermione felt her voice catch in her throat as he eyed her like she was a wounded bird his wolf found on the forest floor, ready to pounce and tear her to shreds if she did or said the wrong thing. She knew how intelligent Remus was, often picking up on small details or bringing up facts that others had glossed over during the Order meetings, and perhaps she should give him more credit for not wanting to ignore the fact that her sudden appearance into 1979 made zero sense, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly perturbed by his tone. “I am here to help the Order, same as you.”

Remus could feel the truth in her words. The witch wasn’t lying, that much he could discern, but there was something gnawing at him that told him that wasn’t the full truth. It was like the last pages of her book were ripped from its binding and squirreled away so no one might find out just exactly who Hermione Granger was. Jade eyes narrowed on her, watching the way she shifted uncomfortably under his examination.

“I was assigned by Christopher Hammersmith from MACUSA’s Auror Department to work with---”

“To work with Alastor to catch a rogue Goblin who was embezzling money from Gringott’s and funneling it into an illegal gambling hall based in New York and once you arrived you were recruited to help in the Order…” he finished her sentence, obviously have been spoon-fed that line of bullshit more than once since he had returned. His hand rose to stop her from cutting him off. “How about you remove all that bullshit and just tell me the truth. Why...are...you...here?” With his last question every word was enunciated precisely, giving no hidden meaning to them.

It felt as if her heart was going to beat through her chest the longer she sat there in silence looking at Remus. Her hands were curled around the warm mug, nails scratching lightly against the faded pattern on the outside. That was the million pound question, wasn’t it? It was a question she had been asking herself since Arthur’s death. Why was she here? Originally it was to kill Voldemort, but now…..now there were so many more reasons to her being in 1979. She was here to help her friends, the ones from 1999 and 1979. She was here to figure out if these feelings for Sirius were real, or just lust. She was here because back home she didn’t have a family; she was the perfect choice for this mission because if she died, the mess would be easier to hide. Oh, yeah, and she was here to kill Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Brown eyes flickered between Remus’ jade green, watching the way that just beside his black pupils hints of yellow swirled, indicating the ever-present Moony who lay waiting to come have his turn cross-examining her. “I--”

“She’s here because we needed to get you home and she’s pretty good at her job,” Sirius’ sleepily voice cut through the tension between the pair like ice water to a burn, pulling them both from the unintentional staring contest each was participating in. Sirius ambled across the room as he pushed his shaggy black hair back from his eyes. Sliding up next to Hermione his hand pressed into her lower back, fingertips sliding beneath the soft jumper to brush across her satin skin as he leaned over to press a kiss onto her temple. “Morning”

As the kettle began to whistle, Remus took the opportunity to turn away from the intimate greeting with an eye roll. Pulling the screaming pot off the burner, he carefully filled the teapot. “Well, I’m home now. Mission complete. You can leave at any time.”

Hermione flashed a grateful smile up to Sirius briefly before perching up off the stool to press her lips against his jawline, letting her lips linger against the soft stubble of two days’ growth, her warm breath tickling across his sensitive skin. At Remus’ statement she let out a small irritated sigh as she sat back down in her seat. Reaching out to snag her mug, she lifted it to her mouth and drained its contents before she unceremoniously deposited it onto the countertop before her. “I’m on leave for a bit longer. I’ll be out of your hair in…” Her fingers tapped absentmindedly against the side of the ceramic mug as she tallied up her remaining days and the moment the number was reached her belly gave a small pang in discomfort. “Fourteen days.”

“Fourteen days?” both men replied in unison, although each holding an entirely different context. Sirius’ was brimming with disbelief because fourteen days seemed too soon; it was not enough time. Remus’ was full of irritation, knowing he would half to spend nearly half a month dealing with the repugnant scent of the witch clinging to all the fibers in his flat.

Hermione’s tongue darted out to drag across her lower lip nervously. “Give or take.” Pushing off the stool she waved her hand towards her mug and with a soft incantation mumbling under her breath moved towards the sink, following the direction her index finger directed. “The point is that Remus, I’d like to go over some of the information I have available before I leave. Alastor mentioned you were able to gather some intel on the Death Eaters while you were in Germany.”

Remus looked away from the witch as she moved away from the countertop to stand in the entryway to the kitchen, blocking his escape route. He could feel both Sirius’ eyes on him, silently begging him to drop his standoffish attitude. Stubbornly he rotated his jaw as he thought her proposition over. “...fine, but you might as well get the whole Order together.” He’d do it, but it wasn’t because she asked. He’d do it for his friends, and for the people it could save.

“I was actually thinking just the Marauders,” Hermione glanced over to Sirius for some sort of reassurance that was the right move. She could include the whole Order, but some of the intel she had was not exactly public news yet. It wouldn’t be for several years, but if she could name-drop a couple of key Death Eaters then perhaps they could apprehend them before more destruction was made? “Peter is not available until Thursday from what he told Lily, but I think this needs to happen sooner than that. I was hoping to have the rest of us meet tomorrow over dinner.”

Remus could not help but let her words bristle underneath his skin. Of course she had checked everyone's schedule to try to accommodate the group, but he couldn’t help but dislike how willingly they all seemed to allow her into their personal lives. She had just asserted herself into their group so seamlessly. It was almost as if she knew their personalities and habits already. “Why don’t you want to include the rest of the Order? Better yet, why don’t you want to wait for Pete? If this is a Marauder meeting, shouldn’t he be present? He is actually a Marauder, unlike--”

“I am well aware I am not a part of your band of misfits--”

“Lovable misfits!” Sirius added as he moved into the kitchen, picking up the fresh pot of tea that Remus had made to pour himself a cup. He knew how Hermione took her morning tea by now and with that knowledge came a valuable nugget that unless you liked your tea strong enough to bite back, it was best to avoid it entirely.

Remus and her both couldn’t help but roll their eyes at his intrusion on their tense dialogue. “Loveable misfits. No need to remind me of my place as an outsider, but we need to meet as soon as possible because I am leaving soon and...” Hermione pressed her lips together as she struggled to find the right words, her teeth capturing her bottom lip for a moment before she let out a small breath. She couldn’t very well say that the conversation needed to happen without Peter because he was weeks away from possibly shifting his allegiance from his friends to Voldemort. That fact was something she had purposefully left out of the retelling of her past to Sirius, because part of her was hoping that something could change. Maybe a key event would not occur and Peter wouldn’t turn his back on his friends, but the more time she spent with the group, she could already see the signs of Peter looking for comfort elsewhere. He was distant, and missed too many get-togethers with the excuse of a hectic schedule and needy boss at the Apothecary. Rubbing her palms against the rough denim of her shorts she replied, “Because sometimes doing the right thing does not mean it is legal. And this needs to happen sooner than later.”

“Oh, I get it. You want us to do your dirty work while you what? Return to whatever hole you crawled out of until it’s convenient to come back. Lily told me what you did to Sirius! Shagged him, disappeared for weeks and then you turn back up and act like nothing's wrong. You might have everyone else fooled Hermione, but I can smell a liar from a mile away and I’ll let you in on a little secret. You stink,” Remus shot back quickly.

“Moony,” Sirius scolded, his arms crossing over his chest at his friend. “That’s not--”

“You know what, fuck you Remus!” Hermione snapped, her magic crackling beneath her skin as the fire of annoyance present in her belly grew into an inferno of anger, the flames licking her words as she spoke. She couldn't help but take his misguided attack personally. Logically she knew he was not privy to more than half of the facts that resulted in her abrupt departure last time and therefore she should not take his harsh inquisition personally. But it didn’t matter, because he was partially correct. She would be gone for an undisclosed amount of time, and possibly forever. If she had a choice in the matter, she wouldn’t leave. Not yet at least, not while so much had to be done. Lily and James had become her friends, and her loyalty to protect them ran much deeper than Harry now. She wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt if their fate still ended their time on earth on Oct. 31, 1981, not after losing Arthur, Ron and Ginny.

“Hermione!” Sirius abandoned his half-prepared cup of tea on the countertop quickly to move in front of his friend who was being advanced upon by his girlfriend. “Hermione, stop. This is just a misunderstanding. Moony didn’t mean what he said. He doesn’t know--” His hand went up to show his posed no threat, but each time she tried to sidestep him to get toe-to-toe with Remus he tracked her movement and followed.

“A misunderstanding? You cannot be serious?” she snapped, her brow knitting as her eyes narrowed on Remus over Sirius’ shoulder. “I’ve taken your shit since Germany. I gave you space because I knew you were hurting, and I wanted to respect that, but don’t you dare question my motives, Remus Lupin. I’m not your bleeding enemy! I’m here to stop them, to stop him. Because if I don’t....” Her voice trailed off as she swallowed down the rest of her sentence, stopping her outburst before she could expose the truth behind her appearance. When Sirius placed a hand on her shoulder she shrugged away from him quickly, her head shaking as she backed up. “Don’t!...Just…. Don’t.”

“Hermione, he doesn’t know.” Sirius frowned as he watched her back away from the kitchen, her hands going up to push her shortened curls back from her face.

“What don’t know I?” Remus questioned skeptically, moving from behind Sirius to glance between the two expectantly.

Hermione spun on her heels, her hand going up to silence Sirius’ pleading for her to not leave so they could figure this conflict out as she began her retreat towards the bedroom and upon reaching the archway to the hallway she paused, a shaky hand going out to rest against the wooden frame. “You trust him, don’t you Remus?” Looking over her shoulder to the kitchen. “You trust Sirius, James and Peter, right? Lily too?”

“Of course. What kind of question is that?”

“Then maybe you should start trusting their opinion about me. I’m here to fucking help you, to help all of you. Take that for face value.” She allowed for their gaze to be held, brown meeting jade, silently urging him to stop the need to be nasty towards her and just trust she was doing the right thing. A heavy sigh was given before she turned from the room, disappearing into Sirius’ bedroom.

Sirius stood there for a moment, replaying the turn of events over in his head before he looked over to his friend to his right and without warning he reached out to connect his balled fist into Remus’ shoulder.

Gasping in shock from the stinging pain that ran down his limb, Remus winced, reaching up to cup the wounded shoulder. “Ouch! What the fuck Pads?!”

“You can be a royal prick, Moony. She’s not wrong and you know it. She hasn’t done a thing except be with me to earn the third degree you’ve been giving her,” Sirius said as he shook out his fist, moving back into the kitchen to finish making his cup. Roughly slamming the lid on the sugar container he pushed it back on the counter until the canister was up against the wall before he grabbed his mug and turned, looking to Remus with an expectant look.

Remus leaned back on the cabinets behind him, watching his friend silently berate him with his judgemental stare, the same one that Remus would often use against Sirius while a Prefect and the boy had been caught doing something against school rules. The role reversal was torture for a number of reasons, but mainly because Remus knew he was being unnecessarily harsh towards Hermione, but he couldn’t resist getting under her skin the way she got under his. He just knew there was more to her than what she was willing to share, whatever secrets made up Hermione he intended on finding and bringing to light. Maybe then Sirius could see her for what she really was. But his tactics about finding that information clearly needed to change. The staring contest lasted less than a minute before Remus threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to her later for being rude.”

“For being a prick,” Sirius corrected over his lifted mug.

“For being a prick,” Remus mimicked back, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“You also owe me an apology, Remus,” Sirius informed his friend as he began to pass him, heading out of the small kitchen towards the hallway. He needed to go check on Hermione, and hopefully talk her off the ledge of doing bodily harm to their friendly neighborhood werewolf.

“What?--What do I owe you an apology for?” Remus questioned quizzically.

“For fucking up my morning before I was able to finish a cup,” Sirius explained as he crossed the living room. “And because now I will most definitely not be getting laid tonight.”

Remus snorted a chuckle in response to Sirius’ reasoning. “I’ll make a mental note to be sure I piss her off for the next fourteen days,” he murmured under his breath, ignoring the two finger salute Sirius tossed up over his shoulder towards him before he disappeared into his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my small break in posting. I've been insanely busy this past week and I am now finally able to take a breather. As always, thank you to Islndgurl777 & KnitKnitRead. You both are amazing. And thank you all for the lovely reviews. ~ MM


	22. Love Battery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**June 27th, 1979 - London - 19:00**

When Hermione was a child she could remember the days of summer holiday ticking by at a snail's pace. Each time the minute hand completed its rotation around the antique clock’s face on her parents’ mantel it would feel like hours had passed Each second that ticked by caused her brain to whirl with calculations of how much longer it would take until she went back to Hogwarts and was with her friends. She could distinctly remember one particularly warm afternoon when she was 12 years old laying on the couch on her stomach with several large tomes surrounding her. She had been given permission from Madam Pince to borrow several texts over the holiday to occupy her curious mind. Her parents had been outside in the garden chatting with the Hornsby’s over the garden wall, and when her mother came in to check on the casserole in the oven, she questioned what Hermione was doing cooped up inside. The candid response that Wendy had received was a simple ‘trying to find a incantation to speed up time’. Her mother clicked her tongue in disapproval before going over and collecting the heavy tomes in a large stack before sending Hermione outside to play with the neighbor children. 

That summer was the first time her parents had to enforce the ‘no textbooks during the sunlight hours’ rule. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were adamant about their daughter enjoying life outside of academia and learning through experience in addition to text. Although she had enjoyed her time playing and going to museums with her parents, her heart was always stuck with that antique clock on the mantle, praying that when she would follow the melodic sound of ticking in the evening it would reveal that the minutes had magically turned into days and she would be back on the Hogwarts Express again. Lost in a unexplored world of wizarding with her best friends. The irony was not lost on Hermione now, as she was now praying for the opposite. Her minutes left with Sirius were slipping between her fingers like sand; the more she tried to catch a single grain, the more impossible the task seemed.

The Time-Turner felt heavy in her palm as she watched the purple sand drift to the bottom of the hourglass. The rate at which each grain drifted down seemed to have increased every time she checked it over the past four days. She could not be certain it was not her mind playing tricks on her, but the reality that her time would be up in ten days was invading her happiness with a dark cloud. When she heard Sirius call her name from the hotel room restroom her fingers curled around the cold foreboding metal pendant before she shoved it into her messenger bag quickly before zipping it closed and tossing it on top the chest at the foot of the bed. She did not want Sirius to catch her checking the Time-Turner for what felt like the fifteenth time that day alone.

As she turned around Hermione tucked her shoulder-length curls behind her ears causing the dangly star earrings that hung from her lobes to sway. “Yeah?” she called out towards the hotel’s restroom. While shopping in Muggle London with Lily two days prior Hermione had noticed posters plastered to the sides of buildings advertising a concert for an up-and-coming band at the Marquee Club called The Buzzcocks. Her memories of sifting through old dusty vinyl records in Sirius’ bedroom had reminded her of his love for classic Muggle rock, and she could not be certain, but she had a feeling he had owned a couple records belonging to same Muggle band. After begging Lily to detour from London proper and into Soho, Hermione was able to purchase two tickets with the little bit of remaining money she had managed to squirrel away. She had surprised the wizard later that evening and the gift was met with much fanfare. Sirius had nearly tackled her in the living room much to the dismay of Remus, who sat at the kitchen table trying his best to ignore the assault-style kisses that were being given.

“Black or gray?” Popping out of the bathroom the shirtless wizard held up two short sleeved button downs. He had slicked his wet hair back on his head with the remaining water from his shower. It was not yet long enough to tie back, just barely reaching the base of his neck and meant that once it dried it would hang in his campfire smoke eyes in a way that would often leave Hermione’s mouth dry with desire. He wore a tight pair of dark-wash blue jeans that left little to the imagination, and his mahogany dragonhide boots.

Hermione leaned back against the trunk at the foot of the bed, her eyes running across each offered article of clothing before she allowed her gaze to travel to his chest and her bottom lip was bitten. The soft black hair that littered his chest and ran a thin trail from his belly button to below his jeans glistenced in the artificial lighting of the hotel room. She was half tempted to tell him to go without either, but knew her peacock of a boyfriend would likely take her jest for truth. He had spent nearly double the time she had getting ready for the concert, wanting to make sure everything was in place before they left the hotel room for the night. “Gray. Brings out your eyes,” she offered as she lifted her eyes back to his face where he was moving his head from left to right, weighing the options of which shirt out in his head.

Nodding at her words, he disappeared back into the bathroom before shouting. “You’re right, The gray does bring out my eyes. I’ll have to beat the Muggle birds off with a stick.”

Hermione couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh in disbelief at his words, her head shaking. “Careful Sirius, if your head inflates any more you might not fit through the doorway.” Crossing the room to the restroom doorway she leaned against the frame, crossing her ankles as she did. 

Sirius was leaning over the countertop. The tip of his wand was carefully drug across his face as a shaving charm was used to remove the day’s stubble from his cheeks. The gray shirt that Hermione had helped select hung open, not yet buttoned because of his final preparation of shaving for the evening. “I’ll show you something that inflates,” he mumbled as his the tip of his wand went across his right cheek, allowing the pass to finish before he glanced over to her to toss a wink Hermione’s way. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Hermione glanced down at her outfit quizzically. It was something Lily has practically forced into Hermione’s bag before they had left for the weekend; nothing overly-extravagant but far more risque than her normal attire of jeans and t-shirts. A short high waisted black skirt with a row of bronze buttons that ended about three inches shorter than Hermione was truly comfortable wearing. An off the shoulder fitted black and white striped short sleeve blouse was worn, the hemline of her shirt ending just half an inch above the top of her skirt, allowing the occasional glimpse of her peaches and cream skin to anyone who was watching. Her hands smoothed out the flared skirt over her thighs before she looked back up to Sirius. “That was my plan. Is there something wrong with it?”

Sirius watched her from the mirror, his eyes glancing between his work shaving his cheeks and her. “Not at all,” he said casually, reaching up to brush his fingertips across his cheek to make sure all of the stubble was removed. “You do know what type of concert this is, though?” he questioned softly before setting his wand on the countertop and reaching for his aftershave, putting a small amount in his palms before gently tapping it against his stubble-free face and neck. 

“Yes Sirius. I am very aware of what type of music they play,” she responded dryly. “Witch from the future, remember?” she pointed to herself before lifting a single brow towards him playfully. “I think I should be quite alright in a skirt. It’s not like it’s the Weird Sisters,” she responded as she recalled dancing the night away during her fourth year with Viktor to the famous band, and wishing desperately she wasn’t stuck in a ballgown so she might be able dance without the worry of her hemline drifting up too far.

Snatching his wand off the countertop he turned as he shoved it into his back pocket. “For a witch from the future you don’t offer me much help. I’ve asked for Quidditch scores for weeks now, even offering up my bedroom services as payment for them and you keep telling me you don’t know.” Nimble fingers fed his buttons through their corresponding hole as he worked his way up his shirt before ending at the button in the middle of his chest, leaving the top of his shirt opened. Smoothing out his collar he glanced into the mirror once more to make sure his outfit was up to snuff.

“And I have told you for weeks that I do not follow that horribly dangerous sport. If wanted to watch people break their bones I would just go out on field duty.” Reaching across the bathroom her hand locked around his forearm and she tugged him from the cramped bathroom with a small laugh. “You look fine, Sirius. Besides, who are you trying to impress?”

Sirius flashed her his signature crooked grin as he allowed her to pull him towards the hotel door. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. I know I look good.” Glancing over his shoulder he waved his hand towards his leather jacket that was draped over a chair inside the hotel room. “ _ Accio Jacket.” _ The jacket lifted off the chair and floated in his direction swiftly.

“Show off,” Hermione murmured under her breath. As her hand reached the door handle of the door she paused. “Oh bollocks, I wanted to get a picture of you before we left. Just a sec-,” she said quickly, dropping his forearm from her grip as she rushed across from the door, heeled boots snapping against the wooden floor as she moved to the end table on the left side of the bed. Small hands snagged a black and silver camera off the top and she wagged it at Sirius as he rolled his eyes.

“You’ve been taking pictures of me all bloody day, and I have yet to get one of you!” he protested but got into position against the door to the hotel room, leaning back casually against the wall after slipping into his beloved leather jacket. 

Lifting the enchanted item to her eye she manually adjusted the lense, making sure he was in focus. “And you won’t,” she snapped the photo just as he frowned in response to her words. “Damnit Sirius. We only have three photos left,” she complained as she dropped the camera away from her face. Prior to leaving for this overnight get away, Hermione had insisted they borrow Lily and James’ camera, using the excuse of wanting to document Sirius’ first time in Muggle London with a proper Muggle tour guide. She was really wanting to document the trip so he would have something to remember her by once she returned to 1999.

“You keep saying that, but have yet to give me a good explanation as to why I can’t take your photo.” Reaching out he snatched the camera from her hands before pulling her close to him in a bear like grip. Fingers spun the reel to the next available photo as he struggled to hold her close to him. “Just one measly photo, Little Bird. You look fit,” he laughed as he held the camera towards them haphazardly.

Hermione squeaked in alarm, her hand darting out to block the lense the best she could on the tips of her toes. “Sirius Orion!” she scolded as she wiggled against his hold, her brow knitted. “Stop it!! Sirius this isn’t bloody funny!” Her voice lost all form of jest as she grabbed at the extended lense and yanked the camera out of Sirius’ grasp roughly. Licking her bottom lip as she looked down at the contraption in her hands. Her fingers carefully collapsed the lense, not yet looking up to Sirius who she could feel staring at her. “Sirius...do you realize what would happen if a photo of me turned up suddenly?”

Sirius’s arms slowly unwound from around Hermione, giving her a bit of space as his hand rose to the back of his neck to rub softly at the skin there. “Why does it matter? I won’t show anyone.” He mumbled his reply softly, gray eyes dancing across Hermione’s face as she turned to finally look up at him.

“Sirius...It’s not that I don’t want to….It could complicate things for me, and not just because of the Ministry. What if Harry found photos of me and you together in old photos--”

“Harry? Who the fuck is---Oh, right. Harry. James’ boy. What about him? What difference does it make, they’ll be in my things. Prongs’ boy won't need to see them.”

Hermione pursed her lips together as she debated internally whether she should bring up his pending demise seventeen years in the future. When Sirius died the entire Grimmauld Estate was left to Harry, as Sirius held no heirs and the property and vault went to his Godson. During the summer after The Battle of Hogwarts the trio had spent many days sifting through the contents of the musty old home. Harry was the first to cross the threshold into Sirius’ bedroom. Memories from long ago were still hung up on the walls and sitting atop dressers. Pictures of The Marauders at Hogwarts and into early adulthood had begun to fade, but still moved via enchantment as if they had just been developed. It was a difficult room to clean for Harry for many reasons, but the biggest being that his final connection to his parents, Sirius and Remus, were no longer on this earth. He had finally found the family he didn’t know he had been searching for since he was a child, and within an instant they were all taken from him. Hermione licked her front teeth before sighing, shaking the memory away in the process. No. She wouldn’t do this, not here, not tonight. Nothing put a damper on a romantic getaway quiet like death, especially when it was the death of someone in the room.

“What do you think would happen if I came across those photos when I was younger? Sirius, we weren’t exactly rule-followers in my youth, which should come of no surprise to you. You just can’t. It has to be enough for you to know I was with you when they were taken. Okay?”  her fingers fiddled with the camera nervously as she locked eyes with Sirius, pleading him to drop the subject and to just agree to her terms.

She had not exactly been an open book since spilling her secret that night in his flat when she returned. Every damn time Sirius tried to bring up the future, or was it the past? He wasn’t quite sure, but he knew every time he tried to broach the subject it was as if a gigantic wall was put up between them for several hours as she avoided his questions at all cost. Sirius was growing tired of this song and dance they seemed to play, but when he caught sight of those big brown eyes pleading with him to drop the subject, well he couldn’t help but relent. With a soft growl he tore his eyes away from her, looking to the wall opposite him as a breath was exhaled. “Fine...but you owe me.”

At his compliance to her request it felt like a weight was taken off her shoulders. She knew the time for them to discuss her inevitable return to 1999 was coming up quicker than either was anticipating, but for tonight, she wanted to pretend like it didn’t matter. Like they were just like any other couple out in the sea of Muggles who were still gallivanting around London, like the shitty future they both were trying to avoid was not about to come barreling at them like an angry bull. Pulling her wand from her small handbag, she floated the camera over to the bed before crossing over to Sirius, leaning up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss against his freshly shaven cheek. “Whatever you want.”

Sirius paused a moment before glancing towards the witch out of the corner of his eyes as a slow crooked lecherous smile washed over his lips. “Anything?”

Hermione pulled back and carefully examined the expression on his face before both of her brows lifted in surprise. Oh no. Her head shook quickly and she darted around him, pulling open the hotel room door. “No. Nope. Never happening. I made it very clear that I was opposed to that.” She spoke with urgency as she attempted to flee the room to get into a more public space where he might have the decency to not voice such a lewd request. Hermione considered herself to be a pretty progressive witch when it came to their bedroom routine, but this particular act was something she was not interested in, at least not without proper persuasion.

Sirius tossed his head back as unabashed laughter filled the hallway, unable to hold it in at her adamant response. Reaching out his hand caught the heavy door as she fled through it and his lithe body moved after her. For a little thing she certainly moved quicker than he expected. “Aw come on Little Bird. You ought to try it at least one time. Blimey, even Moony likes a good buggering every now and then!”

Just as his last sentence left his lips the pair rounded the corner to the elevator bank where an elderly couple stood with their luggage, obviously just having gotten off the lift from the check in desk. Hermione’s cheeks blushed a deep crimson and her eyes averted to the floor quickly. The couple, who were trying their best to look busy collecting their luggage to make the trip to their room in one go had obviously heard the last bit of their conversation. Her finger jammed the elevator button quickly, pressing it in rapid succession four times in hopes that it would make the lift appear quicker to their floor.

Sirius, to no one's surprise, seemed rather unaffected by the socially impolite conversation. He winked playfully to the elderly witch and tipped his head to the wizard as he passed them to come stand beside his curly haired girlfriend as his hands snaked into the front pockets of his jeans. He rocked back and forth between his toes and heels as he glanced in the polished metal of the lift doors to catch a glimpse Hermione’s reddened cheeks and his bottom lip was bitten. He shouldn’t, really he shouldn’t but well. She just looked so damn cute when she blushed. “I think you’d quite like it. Might surprise yourself,” he continued.

“Sirius,” Hermione hissed out under her breath as her head snapped up to look at him with wide eyes between motioning silently to the couple who was still only a couple yards away from them in their retreat from the elevator bank.

“What?” Gray eyes feigned innocence as he glanced to the elderly couple before back to Hermione. “I bet they would agree with me. Everyone enjoys bum play.”

* * *

 

**June 28th, 1979 - London - 03:30**

The concert had provided the distraction from reality Hermione had been hoping for, and instead the pair danced, drank and enjoyed the show put on by the fledgling rock band. The heavy petting under the darkness of the club had turned to full on alcohol induced courage foreplay as Hermione leaned back against Sirius and directed his fingers under the waistband of her skirt in the back of the crowded club. He managed to bring her to climax once before the concert had ended with just his hand in her knickers. When the band’s final set was played and the harsh lighting flooded the darkened club Sirius had backed Hermione up against the wall near the exit doors and was hungrily stealing kisses while his hands roved over her clothed body. The bouncer had to interrupt their necking in order to escort them from the building, something Hermione nor Sirius were happy to postpone.

They had made it back to the hotel by 1am in a drink-induced lust and the pair successfully made it into the hotel room before clothing was divested, but it was a narrow victory. The rest of the early morning hours were spent in the throws of passion in the twisted sheets of the hotel bed while Sirius happily introduced his courageous Gryffindor to the wonders of what tongues and fingers could do to the most sensitive spot she had insisted she was not interested in exploring earlier in the night.

As the early morning hours crept by, Sirius had brought her to release three times, and twice himself, before their bedroom proclivities ended. Hermione had fallen asleep quickly curled up in the soft sheets of the king sized hotel bed, but Sirius was not so lucky. He had laid awake for nearly an hour tossing and turning next to his sleeping beauty before finally giving in to restlessness that consumed him and he slipped from under the covers.

He had dressed in his navy cotton boxers before stepping out onto the balcony of the hotel room with a cigarette and wand in hand. Pressing his elbows onto the cold metal railing he lit the cigarette. Gray eyes ran over the cityscape, taking in the twinkling lights and the soft urban noises that the early morning hours of London held. It was quiet compared to the hustle and bustle of the day, but it still held a low murmur of nightlife.

Inhaling the thick smoke Sirius turned slowly on the balcony to lean against the cold iron, his left foot rising to press against the railing as he watched Hermione lay asleep in the bed inside the hotel room.

Smirking he watched her roll onto her back in the bed which caused the soft cotton sheet to slip down to her waist, exposing her breasts to the cold air in the room which pebbled her dusty pink nipples into hard points. Even after several rounds of ecstasy with this witch he was still ready to go. In the short time he had known her she had successfully burrowed her way under his skin and into his heart.

Sirius watched her chest rise and fall with each deep sleepy breath she took before his eyes drifted up to her face. Her long eyelashes fanned beautifully against her cheeks and her hair; oh how he was enamored with the thick riotous curls, spread out around her like a crown. He brought the cigarette to his lips as he tapped his wand against his bare thigh in thought.

He had first realized his feelings for this witch were beyond that of the normal infatuation he held for his latest bedroom conquests when Remus had called him out on them in the hotel room in Germany. Although if he was being honest, he knew the moment she turned up at the door to his flat at the beginning of the month. The sudden relief her presence brought him was undeniable but he had still been angry for her sudden departure. This was, of course, before he knew the truth. 

He let the smoke swirl around inside his mouth as he slowly took another drag, letting it fill his lungs before it was exhaled into the night air. She had nine days until she was supposed to return to the future, and Sirius was quickly realizing her lack transparency regarding her inevitable return was likely do to the fact she didn’t know what the future held for either of them. Hermione was a planner, than much he had come to realize, and this was most certainly not in her grand plan. Fuck, it wasn’t in his either! He was supposed to be single, enjoying the men and women life let him come across while bar-hopping. He wasn’t supposed to be recruited in an underground resistance to fight an angry wizard with a blood prejudice, and he most certainly was not supposed to fall for a curly haired witch from the future.

But here he was, standing on the balcony of a hotel room in the heart of London, watching her--his witch sprawled out on the bed, exhausted from their night on the town and post-coital bliss. He wasn’t ready to give this up. Not without a fight. Call him selfish, or stupid, but Sirius was ready to fight to keep her in his life. Even if that meant he had to risk everything to make sure she came back. It was quite amazing, actually, how they had come this far. How he woke up one morning and suddenly realized he could not remember the feeling of her not being a part of his life. But what scared him now, more than any Death Eater ever could, was that he might have to.

He had to convince her this was worth it, for he knew she felt the same. The spark that sizzled beneath each kiss and touch. The swell of joy the moment they were in the same room as one another. It was more than just lust, but damnit if he wasn’t absolutely terrified of labeling it with that scary four letter L word. He just knew that he did not want to think back to this time several months from now and realize he had given up before truly giving them a shot at a future together. Whatever sort of future two people from different eras could have, at least.

Flicking the ash away from his cigarette he finished off the remaining tobacco before smashing it unceremoniously into the crystal ashtray which sat up top a small table on the balcony. Sliding open the heavy glass door, Sirius moved inside the room once more. The ambient sounds of the city were cut off as he shut the door behind him, and were now replaced with the soft breathing of Hermione. Bare feet carried him silently across the room towards his side of the bed and as he moved to pull back the sheets to slide in next to her a soft glinting from the night stand on his side of the bed caught his eye.

On the table just an arm’s reach away sat the small silver and black camera from earlier. Sirius glanced between the magical object and Hermione who lay fast asleep on the bed. His tongue darted out across his lips to wet them as he ran his eyes across her nude torso before going back to her face. She would never know, right? He could just delay getting the film developed until she was busy and squirrel away the image. She was right, he would have the memories of their time together, but that did not stop him from wanting an image of her. Of how utterly beautiful and peaceful she looked in that very moment naked on the hotel bed.

Grabbing the camera from the dresser he pulled the lense cap off before tossing it softly on the mattress as the camera came to life with the small push of a button. The gears inside the magical object whirled to life, breaking the silence in the room. Hermione stirred in her sleep to the soft noise, her head lulling to the right and a few strands of her wild curls fell across her cheek. Her hands lifted off the mattress to fall beside her head and for a moment Sirius held his breath, hoping that if he stilled for just a moment she wouldn’t wake from dreamland to catch him doing what he was explicitly asked not to do. As the soft noise from her her heavy sleep-laced breaths filled the room he allowed himself to release his own breath before moving onto the bed. His left knee sunk into the feather soft material of the sheets as he leaned over her to get a perfect view of his sleeping beauty. Lifting the camera to his right eye he focused in on her face, wanting to catch the way her kiss swollen lips pouted perfectly in her sleep and the angelic way her face looked when it was free of the worry that gnawed at her.

His thumb pressed against the button and the shutter snapped before the aperture closed in a swirl. When she did not respond to the noise the camera emitted while the photo was taken, he reached out, carefully and slowly pulling the sheet lower and lower on her body until it pooled at her feet. Her skin rose with goosebumps in response to the cold air conditioned breeze that blew across her torso. Moving down to the edge of the bed he leveled the camera again against her eye again as he leaned back, careful to make sure her to capture the feminine nakedness in the photo.

Lowering the camera into his lap he sat quiet for several moments, watching Hermione blissfully sleep, completely unaware of the breach of trust that had just happened, but also at ease. So often lately he found her with the worry lines rutted deep into her forehead as she looked over newspaper clipps, and it seemed the closer they got to the deadline for her departure, the more despondent she became. His thumb lifted to his mouth and he chewed on his thumbnail for a moment before a slow smile crept on his lips as he watched her stir under the coolness in the room and roll onto her side, giving him a perfect view of her marvelously heart-shaped bottom.

This wasn’t the end of their story, it couldn’t be. He knew Hermione would find her way back to him; he had to be patient and for her, and he was willing to wait as long as it took. Rising off the bed he lifted the camera more and he adjusted the lense until a wide angled view of her laying on her side in the bed came into view making sure her posterior was in the center of the image before the final photo was taken.

The camera began to whirl softly, as the last photo in the roll had just been taken. Setting it down upon his nightstand he discarded his boxers before sliding into the bed next to her. Lifting the sheet from her feet he carefully draped them both under the soft layer before he let one arm slide beneath her pillow and the other around her waist as he scooted in closer. His nose brushed softly against the curls on her back of her head, letting the rich scent of honey and wildflowers fill his senses and relax him. His finger brushed softly against her porcelain skin until the call to join her in dreamland overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me forever to post. :) Life seemed to slip away from me, but I am happy to say I am nearly complete with the next chapter, which means it shouldn't be too longer before it's up. Hermione's time in 1979 is quickly coming to and end, and it shouldn't surprise you to know things will be very different when she goes back home.


	23. Teardrops and Time-Turners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**July 6th, 1979 - London - 06:00**

Hermione’s finger tapped nervously against the porcelain mug that was held between her hands, letting the steaming tea cool for a moment longer before she could attempt to drink it. This was the earliest she had risen without the help of an alarm spell since her time back in 1979, but her nerves about what today meant prevented her from slumbering since 3am. She only had hours before her departure from this era, and each second that ticked by caused her stomach to twist into a painful knot of uncertainty. The anxiety about her time-travel was more than just worry about what would happen with her budding relationship, which she could only imagine would not be around in 1999, but what awaited her once she returned. The loss of a third of the Golden Trio was going to change much of her past, and how far the effects of what happened would be felt was still to be determined.

When the door chimed open letting the cafe owners know another patron had arrived to the sleepy Muggle diner just on the other side of Diagon Alley in Muggle London, Hermione’s head darted up from her fixation on the mug between her hands and she gulped. It was purely impulse when she woke up Remus and requested he meet her here, knowing full well the temperamental werewolf was not fond of her still, and even more so without sleep, but she had hoped her requesting his presence with the context of it being about Sirius would be enough to draw him out of the warm confines of his bed this early in the morning.

Raising her right hand in the air she gave a small wave to Remus to signal her location before she looked over to the waitress who was behind the bar serving another early morning patron. She nodded her head once their eyes connected to signal the waitress to bring over the second cup of tea and muffins she had ordered before glancing up to Remus.

He had pulled on a pair of gray trousers and an old v-neck burgundy shirt. His hair was still mussed from his pillows, the back of it standing up at odd angles, and from the look of it he had barely rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Plopping down in the seat across from her his palm went up to press against his right eye, rubbing it softly. “What is so bloody important it couldn’t wait until a decent hour?” Remus’ voice crackled with the soft gravelly tones of the day’s first speech, the sleep being shaken off his vocal cords still.

Hermione let out a soft breath through her nose before glancing up when the waitress approached the table and set down the mug in front of Remus and two large muffins, one double chocolate and the other lemon poppy seed, in the center of the table. “Here ya go, lovelies. One cup of Earl Gray with a splash of cream and four sugar cubes and two muffins.”

“Thank you, Dotty.” She flashed a smile up to the elderly waitress before bringing her cooling tea up to her lips for a quick sip, buying her some time for the Muggle to walk away. “I know it’s early. Sorry I just don’t have a lot of time,” she began as she set her mug down and plucked the lemon poppyseed muffin off the plate in the center of the table. She carefully placed it on a napkin in front of her before her thin fingers began to crumble the muffin top nervously.

Remus eyed the mug skeptically before reaching out to pick up the milky tea and take a slow sip. The witch had request his tea order perfectly, which was just another detail to add to the list of growing reasons Remus did not trust her. She knew far too many things about their inner circle than what a couple months spent around Sirius would allow, such as the birthdates of nearly all of the Marauders (with the exclusion of Lily and James), or the real use of the Shrieking Shack, which she insisted she figured out once Alastor told her of his Lycanthropy, but he just knew there was something peculiar about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Watching her struggle to find the words while crumbling her breakfast Remus carefully cocked a brow towards her. “You’re not knocked up, are you?”

Hermione’s brow rose to her hairline quickly as she coughed out a chorus in surprise. “Erm…No. Nope. Not with child,” she stammered, her hands dropping the muffin to place her left palm flat against her chest as the right lifted her cup to her mouth so she could take a large gulp to ease the burning sensation in the back of her throat. The conversation had never come up with Sirius, but she assumed he had figured her smart enough to take preventative measures of her own accord. Prior to traveling back in the past the first time, the Ministry had required a year-long potion to be taken to prevent egg implantation, as the effects of time travel on the human body were still being studied; they could not be certain of the consequences if she, or any other agent, were to get pregnant while in the past and the risk far outweighed the curiosity.

At her response Remus could not help but relax, even in just the slightest. “Good. Well...then just spit it out because I would like to go back to ignoring you. Makes my day so much brighter,” he mumbled before leaning back against the soft chair and his arms crossed over his chest.

Hermione’s brow knitted softly as she looked at Remus’ expectant posture and she bit her bottom lip with a heavy sigh. “Remus I’m leaving today and I’m worried about Sirius.” Her tongue darted across her dry lips nervously as she locked eyes with her old Professor.

“Why the fuck would you be worried? You’ll come back after a month or so and it’ll be fine. Look, I know he’s a bit of a flirt, but he’d never cheat on you. He’s not that type of guy.” Reaching up Remus ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair to push the fringe from his eyes before his head cocked to the left when he noted that his words did not ease the discomfort that was so clearly written across her face. “It’s not that, is it?”

“Remus. I’m not certain if I’ll be able to come back,” Shifting uncomfortably in the chair she let her eyes drop from Remus the instant his narrowed on her. “I want to. Gods, I am going to try, but it is a bit complicated and I’m--”

“You both keep using that fucking word and I am entirely positive neither of you dunderheads understand what it means. For the record, complicated does not mean you don’t explain, it means it is difficult to explain. There is a distinct difference between the two and I do not bloody care how hard it is for you to come back, you just do.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh despite his harsh tone, her head shaking. “Remus, it’s not that easy. I cannot just tell my boss I’m leaving and not coming back.” Her hand went up from her lap to brush her hair behind her ear as she let loose some more involuntary laughter, unable to contain it anymore as the ridiculousness of what she was trying to do set in. She was trying to ask for Remus’ help because she was doing what she had done before. She was abandoning Sirius again, except this time she knew her departure date and time and still allowed herself to play house with him over the past four weeks without a care for the consequences.

“The fuck you can’t.” Remus snapped as his brow and jaw set in frustration, which only grew worse as she laughed. Whatever Sirius saw in this witch was beyond him, as at this very moment she was sitting across the table from him telling him she was all but running away to wherever she came with no intention of returning to Sirius, the wizard he still very much held feelings for.

Hermione shook her head from left to right quickly, reaching out to push the crumbled muffin away from her. “If it was that simple I would not be here asking for your help!” she spit back in a hurried whisper trying to keep her voice down as to not draw attention in the nearly empty diner. The emotions of what she was asking for sunk in the more heated the conversation turned and caused salty tears to blur the edges of her vision and threaten to fall. “I need you to make sure he’s okay if I don’t come back. I need you to promise me to take care of him because I am certain without you he is going to end up in trouble.”

Remus rolled his eyes at her words, looking away from the pleading witch. “He managed to stay out of trouble just fine when I was in Germany,” he muttered after scoffing.

“Remus. Please...Please promise me you will look after him.” Reaching across the table Hermione curled her hand around Remus’ forearm, flinching when he pulled roughly away from her touch.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he spat out as jade green eyes shot daggers across the table at her. “I was looking after him years before you showed up. I don’t need you to fucking tell me to do anything. How dare you sit there and tell me you’re not coming after making him fall in love with you.” A sneer pulled across his features as he eyed Hermione, who was beginning to crumble across from him. He felt no remorse for his words as he watched tears cascade down her rosy cheeks and drip off her chin onto the off-white table. “You just showed up and played pretend for four weeks, and now what? Now that you have his heart you’re just running away and not even trying to get back? What the fuck does he see in you? Merlin, what do they all see in you? Smart witch my arse.” Pushing away from the table Remus rose from the chair, his hands dragging through his hair before he reached out to grab the chocolate muffin off the table roughly. He didn’t want to give her the pleasure of knowing she had selected his favorite flavor, but well...he could not very well leave it for her to commit muffin murder on like she did the other one!

“Remus!” Hermione’s voice dripped fear as he turned from the small table and she got up, the chair clattering against the tiled floor as it slid back quickly. “Just promise me. Promise me you’ll make sure he stays out of trouble...and safe.”

Remus looked down at the muffin in his hand as his fingers squeeze just lightly against the soft baked good before he looked over his shoulder to her. “I promise,” he said flatly, his eyes not hiding the disgust he felt for her in the moment as he eyed her.  “If you don’t come back you never deserved him. And I’ll make sure he knows and believes that as well.”

As Remus swept from the cafe in a hurry to separate himself from her, Hermione fell back into the seat. Her hands rose to cup over her face as she let her body succumb the raw emotions that Remus had successfully bubbled up. She was leaving again, and had already resigned herself to a fate of never being able to come back, but she could not tell Remus the truth! If he saw through her carefully executed lie about her past, and she doubted very much he would believe the truth behind her sudden appearance and disappearance.

* * *

**July 6th, 1979 - Tutshill - 16:00**

“How much longer?”

Hermione held the Time-Turner in her palm, fingers curled around the metal, holding it tightly, afraid to look at the purple grains of sand as so few of them remained; she was certain it was only minutes away now. “Not much longer...maybe five minutes.” Her free hand went out, touching the side of his downturned face to lift his head so she could look into this campfire smoke-colored iris that had captivated her from the moment she saw them at thirteen years old in the dilapidated shack in Hogsmeade.

Sirius gave her a small sad smile, trying to put his brave face forward because he knew it would be several weeks before the possibility of seeing her again would arise. “I’ll miss you.” His fingers played with them hem of her blouse, letting the soft material weave through his fingertips. “I know you can’t write or anything...but don’t take too long, okay?”

If her heart could break further than the crumpled mess it felt like it was beneath her ribs, it would have broken cleanly in half at his words. Her thumb swiped softly against his stubble cheek, wanting to memorize the way his angular jaw felt cupped in her palm. “I’ll try not to,” she lied, knowing that the truth would just make leaving that much harder, because she was not even sure of what awaited her once she was back in 1999. Life would be vastly different, that much was certain, but the events leading up to her month-long trip would likely not have changed that drastically, which meant she would have a severely pissed off Minister of Magic awaiting her with a punishment in mind. Perhaps she wouldn’t be an Auror, or maybe she would be sentenced to Azkaban time. The uncertainty was eating away at her stomach like an ulcer as the sand trickled through the hourglass. Leaning forward her lips brushed against his softly, wishing desperately they had even just ten more minutes to spend together. When she felt his hand slide into her curls on the back of her head it took all her willpower for her knees not to buckle beneath her. “Sirius...you have to step back,” her voice trembled against his lips.

He nodded his head as his fingers unwound through her curls, giving the silky smooth hair one last squeeze before he stepped back from her. The distance caused his touch to leave her skin and almost instantly he regretted agreeing to this madness. Couldn’t he go with her? Better yet, couldn’t she say with him here? What’s the worst that could happen? She told him they knew so little about Time-Travel, surely it could not have been that bad or else the Ministry would have never risked sending her back, right?

Just as his mouth opened to voice his concern about this plan, Hermione spoke. “Can you promise me something, Sirius?” Her brown eyes were glancing between the Time-Turner in her palm and up to him, just a mere foot away. Prior to having him take her to Tutshill for her department, she had grilled Sirius for hours on his plans to work with the Order to take down more of the dark wizards in an attempt to work their way up the proverbial food chain to get to Lord Voldemort. What she had forgotten to do in her haste was to tell him things he should avoid. Perhaps, even if he wasn’t able to kill Voldemort, then he could at least stay alive past her fifth year. Perhaps, if she warned him then he could be waiting for her on the other side. “Sirius, don’t go to the Department of Mysteries in 1996. You know what, just...just don’t go. No matter what. Can you promise me that?”

Sirius frowned at her unusual request, the confusion from it setting in before a small amount of panic began to burn under the surface. She would not be talking about something nearly seventeen years in the future as if she was not going to be there if she was indeed intending to come back. “What? No. Hermione you’re coming back before then. Why would I---”

“Just promise me you won’t go!!” She urged quickly, her tongue darting out along her bottom lip. Gulping down the rising anxiety that bubbled in her belly she could feel the last grains of purple sand rattle around in the top chamber of the Time-Turner as she curled her grip tighter around the pendant. “Sirius, do not go. No matter what.” She could feel the tingling begin from under her navel, swirling out around her body to cover it in a thick shroud of magic, and as the world around her began to swirl, her eyes shut tight with the last image of Sirius standing before her with a slightly panicked look in his eyes as the meaning behind her words began to sink in.

Her senses grew fuzzier as the Time-Turner heated up in her palm, almost to the point of burning the sensitive skin on her palm. She could feel the air around her swirl to engulf her body like a cyclone, sending her shoulder-length curls slapping against her cheeks and head in protest as the Time-Travel consumed her. She was Dorothy of Oz falling through time, except when she landed on the other side, there would be no sparkling silver shoes, tin men, scarecrows and little furry dogs. Only a single cowardly lion who has left her heart back in time.

As the world around her spun Hermione’s stomach lurched and her mouth salivated as nausea overtook her, and before she could prevent it she began to heave in protest as time sickness set in. By the time her feet stabilized on the dirt floor of the field in Tutshill she was already in the process if emptying the contents of her stomach. Her knees buckled as the weight of her body settled and she leaned over. The palms of her hands screamed in protest as she pressed them against the dirt floor, ignoring the sharp cut of the rocks as they dug into the sensitive skin.

The air around her had changed. There was so soft summer breeze that tickled her skin. Everything felt dry, as if the rains had not come in months. The blistering heat from the sun overhead felt like an omen of the turmoil to come, heating up her skin to the point that small beads of sweat began to form against her hairline from the combination of the weather change and her sudden exertion from vomiting.  Her fingers curled into the dehydrated earth as the last of her lunch and breakfast made its way out of her body.

She could hear the pop of Apparition echo around her and the sound of Aurors moving swiftly across the wheat field to find her, the stalks of grain breaking under their heavy boots. She knew this was coming, but her heart could not help but race in anticipation as she leaned back to sit in a ‘W’ child’s position, letting her blurry eyes blink away the bleariness as she tried to right her senses. Brushing her stinging hands against her thighs she brushed loose the bits of gravel and clots of dirt from her palms before she slowly pushed herself up off the floor. It was now or never, right? Better to surrender than to try and flee from the Ministry personnel who were combing the field to find her.

Her hands went up, instinctively showing her surrender and that she did not hold her wand, which was safely tucked away in its holster at her hip. The Time-Turner was dangling from her wrist, having fallen from her grasp in the middle of the transition between years. The silver chain glittered in the sunlight, causing the reflection from the sun to bounce around the open field. The chain had been wrapped three times around her slender wrist and Time-Turner hung limply against her forearm as she lifted her hands higher than the top of her head when the first wand was pointed in her direction.

She watched as a team of five Aurors and ten Unspeakables rushed to her, wands drawn in preparation for a fight. She could hear the commands being given from the back of the pack by an eerily familiar voice. It belonged to someone she knew, but she couldn’t quite place it. Especially not having travelled twenty years in time. “Take her down and be careful of that damn Time-Turner on her wrist.”

Her brown eyes narrowed in confusion as she tried to look past the unfamiliar Aurors and masked Unspeakables that created a blockade in front of her and catch a glimpse of the lead giving commands. Before she could voice her surrender and figure out who the familiar voice belonged to she felt the stunning spell hit her from behind. She did not even have time to react or prepare for the spell to take hold of her, for the moment the red light touched the middle of her back, she fell face-first onto the ground unconscious.

The group of Aurors and Unspeakables surrounded her Stupefied body, and the wizard who cast the spell could be heard snickering beneath his white mask. Rushing up behind them the  Auror who gave the command broke through the circle, his hands roughly shoving his employees out of the way to break into the middle.

“Godric, her hands were up! She wasn’t a bloody threat. I said take her down, not fucking knock her out.” Harry sank to his knees beside his long time friend. Gently rolling her body into his lap he smoothed her short curls from her face, leaving a small trail of blood as it did from a superficial wound that had opened up on the crown of her head.

“Just following your orders, Potter.” The Unspeakable who cast the spell stepped forward. Reaching up his gloved hand pulled the mask free from his face before he sent his hood back off the top of his head, revealing himself: cold gray eyes, striking white blond hair and sharp angular features. “Besides, she’s a criminal isn’t she? We all can’t give preferential treatment to our exes. Even if she is the Golden Girl of the Ministry.” Draco spat as he watched Harry hold the curly-haired swot who had alluded his team of Unspeakables for the past month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Beta (Islndgurl777) and Alpha (KnitKnitRead), you both are superb! You deal with my crazy ramblings, my wacky ideas and encourage this madness. <3 As always, I adore both of you.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I can't wait to hear your reactions! EEKK!! ~ MM


	24. Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you familiar with Time-Turners Miss Granger?” The question was the catalyst that sent Hermione back on a secret mission to stop Voldemort before October 31st, 1981. Her work with the original order was important, but clearly nobody relayed this to her partner. Young and not yet tainted by the pain of loss and Azkaban, Sirius Black was a lot harder to manage than Ron or Harry. When he wasn't making every situation the punchline to a long winded joke, he was making his salacious intentions well known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**July 7th, 1999 - Ministry of Magic - Department of Mysteries - 03:00**

When Hermione woke up nearly two hours ago she found herself on a makeshift bed in an interrogation room in the Department of Mysteries. These types of rooms were generally reserved for Dark Wizards and Witches. They were made to be disorienting with their glittering black tiles that ran floor to ceiling, no windows and magically silenced so any noise beyond this room was vanished. She had been in this room before, but not on the side of being captive to it. She had been stripped of her wand, which was no surprise, but it still left her feeling far more vulnerable than she liked to admit.  A small tray of biscuits, cold cuts and fruit had been left on the only table in the room, but she had yet to touch the food. She was beyond starving, but the thought of eating anything sent that clenching feeling of anxiety-induced nausea wracking through her slender frame.

When the door opened, she caught the motion out of the corner of her eye from her prone position on the bed and sat up instantly, her legs swinging to touch her booted feet the cold tile floor. When Harry pushed through the threshold into the room her heart could not help but cry in relief as the sight of her best friend.“Harry!” He looked so different now than he did before. His hair was no longer cropped short, but rather shoulder-length, similar to how she remembered Sirius’ in her youth, and a thick layer of carefully manicured facial hair covered his cheeks and chin. It was not bushy and long like Hagrids, but rather trimmed to line his face with a full thick layer of black. If it was not for black framed glasses and pink scar that peaked out beneath the black fringe that hung upon his forehead, she might have assumed he was someone else entirely. Pushing off the bed she ran across the room to wrap her arms around his neck and she hugged him tightly.

She could feel a moment of hesitation before his arm wound around her slender waist to bring her close. “‘Mione,” his grumbly voice croaked back before clearing his throat. His voice was gravely and  it was obvious he was in desperate need of sleep. She had heard that same tone several times during their seventh year, when they were both running on empty trying to stay alive. Her fingers curled into his Auror’s robes on his shoulders as she pulled herself closer to him, relishing in the comfort of his hug. She could feel the side of his face nuzzle against her hair in a gesture that was far too intimate to be friendly but before she could pull back to question it his hands around her waist slipped lower to push into the back pockets of her jeans. 

Her body froze and brown eyes shot open wide. What...was...he...doing. Her heart raced as she felt his fingers press into the round of her backside and suddenly she was hoisted up. Gripping his shoulders to prevent herself from toppling out of his grasp she let out a loud noise in protest. “Harry!” Panicked eyes looked down to him as she attempted to wiggle from his embrace, refusing to wrap her legs around his waist which made the act of him carrying her quite awkward as he walked to the metal table in the center of the room to deposit her wriggling form. “Harry! What the bloody fuck are you doing!? Get your hands off my---”

“I know, I know. I’m not supposed to touch your arse anymore, I swear it wasn’t like that. I’m just..--” Depositing her wiggling form on the table, his hands moved from her back pockets and around her hips to rest on the junction of her thigh and hip, his thumbs grazing the tops of her thighs before his hands rose to cup her face, and he chuckled softly at her flabbergasted expression. His thumbs ran the length of her feminine jawline as his green eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m so damn glad you’re back and okay.”

Brown eyes darted across his face. He had small scars across the bare skin she could see on the apples of his cheeks, and upon the left side of his jaw she could see a small slice of skin, no bigger than half an inch where the soft pink scarred skin prevented facial hair from growing. When she felt his thumbs sweep across her cheeks, growing ever closer to her lips she snapped out of her assessment of Harry. Reaching up her hands went over his, trapping them in her grasp as she eased his hands off of her face. “Harry...I--” her lips pursed slightly as she struggled to find the right words. She wanted to shout at him and ask him why he felt the need to embrace her as one would a lover, why his unruly hair was long and shaggy, and where his round glasses had gone and who had decided to replace them with square frames. “What the fuck is going on?” she whispered, biting her bottom lip after the question tumbled out of her mouth.

“I could ask you the same bloody question, witch.” She felt his palms flip in her grasp and when his fingers began to lace with hers she pulled back instantly, scrambling backwards on the metal table as she tried to put space between herself and the boy-who-was-far-too-touchy. At her sudden retreat from him Harry let out a small belly laugh, his head shaking as he eyed Hermione who slipped off the table. She could feel a warmth in his gaze as he watched her that she had never noticed before. Had he always looked at her like this? Like….Like Sirius and Remus looked at one another. The meaning behind sudden affection was tickling the edge of her consciousness and perhaps it was better that she did not try to confront that change in her history just yet. Not when she was trapped in the ninth level of the Ministry. 

With her boots planted on the cold tile floor, and a piece of furniture separating her from the far too affectionate Harry, she brushed her hands over her hips, trying to remove the moisture that was building on them due to her nervousness.  “How much trouble am I in, Harry? How bad is it?”

She had been so focused on Harry that she had not noticed the movement behind him when he had entered the room. “Pretty fucking bad,” came the icy drawl of a childhood nemesis she would never forget. Her head snapped to follow the sound so fiercely her shortened curls whipped in against her cheek. The ferret was leaning against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked up from examining his cuticles towards her. He was the same Draco as before, the same permanent smug look on his face like he owned the world and all were beneath him, the same cold gray eyes, but something was different. Something she could not put her finger on. Perhaps it was the fact he was in the same room with Harry without the pair going at each other like dogs trying to determine their alpha status, or maybe it was the fact that he was actually speaking to her without a tone that indicated pure and utter disgust. She couldn’t be certain.  “Scarhead is trying to talk Howell down from ripping you to shreds. I would consider yourself lucky that she didn’t throw you in Azkaban immediately.” 

“Howell?” Her head snapped back to look at Harry as her forehead knitted in her bewilderment. When he reached for her across the table she shook her head, pushing his wrist from her. Dejected, but not deterred, Harry moved closer to Hermione. “Fuck, how much do you know Harry?” Gulping down the frog in her throat, she looked up to Harry as the hair on the back of her neck rose. When Malfoy sniggered at her question she turned towards him. “Wait a second, why are you fucking here, Malfoy?” Doing little to keep the disdain from her voice, her hands went up to push her curls back from her face as she shook her head from left to right as her lips pursed slightly together. What the fuck had she done? How much of her life had changed due to the carelessness in the past? She knew there would be some change, but this was beginning to be too much. Harry...Could she even call him Harry? Her friend did not look like that when she left him only a month ago, not like some hybrid of Sirius and James. And Malfoy! What the fuck was that smartmouth ferret doing in the Department of Mysteries? Shouldn’t be he off spending his Daddy’s fortune as his family rotted in Azkaban cells?! When Harry reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder to get her attention she nearly jumped out of her skin at the contact that burned across her skin like electricity. 

“Hermione, you know who Howell is. She’s the Minister.” When he noticed the confusion did not dissipate from her face he glanced to Draco before back to Hermione. “You know, the Minister of Magic. Short bint with a bad haircut.” Harry watched the petite witch seem to unravel in her turmoil as she paced the length of the room against the far wall, his hands coming to rest in his pockets as he leaned back on the table, filling the spot she had vacated, as he watched her try to process what he was saying. “I don’t know much, just you took the Time-Turner about a month ago, something about a secret assignment that was apparently directed from the top down, because I would not have signed off on sending you back and Howell fucking knew it. Draco knows a lot more, but won’t tell me shite so I’m kind of filling in the pieces as I go.”

Hermione’s movement froze and she turned to look at Harry like he had just spoke Latin for the first time. Did he say Draco? She had to be fucking dreaming. Since when did Harry James Potter refer to Malfoy by his first name? What the fuck had she done. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to find the way to address the familiarity between the childhood rivals without announcing that the whole bloody world has turned on his axis. 

As Hermione did her best fish impression on the opposite side of the room, the blond moved to the opposite side of the table of Harry, and reaching out his slender fingers plucked a grape from the vein and it popped the green fruit in his mouth. “I know this is quite a difficult concept for you Potter, however--” he began as he smoothed his hands over his gray vest. He was wearing a gray and black three piece suit, minus the jacket, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Hermione only noticed as he withdrew his hands from his pockets to scoot the chair back from the table that his skin on his left forearm was tattoo-free, not a trace of the black foreboding ink marked his milky skin. “--I am an Unspeakable, which means I cannot tell you what happens on this floor. I know you are accustomed to using your fame to get your way around here and with various witches, but I don’t swing that way, so your star quality does little to sway me. Additionally, I understand that it is a rather large word for your peanut-sized brain to try and wrap itself around, so I will graciously forgive you for your preposterous claims of privilege to the information. I’ll even let my team know that when addressing the illustrious Potter, we'll call ourselves the ‘No Talky’ group specifically so you can remember that we do not share details of our cases and research in the future.”

Harry simply rolled his eyes as his head shook ever so slightly at the rambling of the blonde wizard before he glanced over to him. “You know, you don’t particularly claim to hate my fame when it’s buying us rounds at the Leaky, or when you get to take two witches home. Forgive me for figuring if four years of friendship might earn me a little privilege.” 

Hermione’s eyes darted between the two wizards as astonishment washed over her like a dragon egg cracked upon the top of her head. She could almost feel the cold trickle as it worked its way down to the tip of her toes. Friendship? Four years? No Dark Mark? Friendship with Malfoy?!?! Her breath began to increase as suddenly it felt like she had been hit in the chest with a rogue bludger. Her hands went to her knees as she doubled over, trying to control her breathing as she felt the beginning waves of panic drudge through her like a rising tide.

Malfoy lifted a single manicured brow towards Hermione as he watched her wrack her body with heavy breaths in an attempt to calm down. She was losing it. He knew there had been a risk associated with the extensive time travel, but going loony was not on the expected outcomes of her state of consciousness upon her return. He glanced over to Harry. “Are you just going to let her pass out or do I have to step up and take care of everything, per usual.” 

“Cock off, Malfoy, you’re not helping.” Crossing over to Hermione, Harry knelt before her, his hands gently running up her arms in an attempt to calm her. “Hey. ‘Mione. It’s okay. Just breathe. It’ll be fine. You’re back, and I’ll get you out of this mess...We’ll get you out, right Draco?” With slow gentle movements one typically reserved for wounded animals, he guided her into his lap as he sat back against the wall, cradling her bridal style. 

Hermione could barely heard the muffled sound of voices over the rushing sound of blood in her ears as her vision tunneled on the glittering tiled floor. She felt his hand slid up and down her spine, and without meaning to she began to time her breaths to the soft stroking. Her cheek pressed against Harry’s strong chest, her head tucked under his chin as he rocked her from left to right, mimicking the way his Godfather would comfort him as a small child when he would have a nightmare. “‘Mione, you gotta keep it together.”

Malfoy sat at the desk, examining his cuticles once more with a detached demeanor before he looked over to the pair on the floor and his eyes rolled. Harry was doing little to prevent Hermione from slipping into a catatonic state of shock; the damn man could not help a drowning Bowtruckle from a puddle. “For fucks sake, Potter. It’s a wonder how you made it this far in life.” Rising from the chair he crossed the room to the duo and crouched down. Reaching out, both hands went to the side of her face and he yanked her vision up from the floor so his gray eyes could lock on brown. They were so like Sirius’ she almost cried right there, but there was a cold bite to them, more similar to steel than the campfire smoke she had come to know was her favorite shade. “Hermione,” his voice was stern and crispy, commanding her to pull herself from her thoughts and come back to the present with them. “Your world has changed. I’ve read the reports, I know exactly what you were tasked with in the past and what happened. I helped prepare you for the trip, and I even vouched for your character when we selected you. We can use this to our advantage, but if you do not pull yourself out of this abyss of pathetic panic, you are fucked. Even Scarhead and SaggyBottom would not be able to pull strings to save you, so pull it together.”

He knew. Her only ally in this era was mother fucking Draco Malfoy. Of course it was, as the fates where cruel bitches who liked nothing more than to clearly torment her. Her head nodded at his words, although behind her eyes the gears of thought spun, trying to figure out how exactly these changes could have been made. Arthur’s death was clearly more far-reaching than she had assumed. 

“You don’t usually take orders from me so well. Good girl.” Unable to resist himself he smirked as the backhanded praise pulled her further from herself and back to reality. He let go of her face and pushed himself up off the floor, straightening out his suit as he glanced down at Harry who was still cradling his ex. “You need to get your shit together too, Potter. If Artemis comes in here and sees this--” his hand gestured to the way Harry had Hermione draped in his lap. “--she’ll have you dismissed from this case quicker than you can say demotion.”

Hermione glanced over to Harry who was currently giving the blonde the exclusively British symbol for ‘Up Yours’ by jutting his two parted fingers in the air. Clearly, not willing to take orders from Malfoy. She took a moment to collect herself, using the rising and falling from Harry’s chest to level her own breathing before she pushed out of his lap, careful to avoid placing her hand anywhere other than his shoulder and knee as she used him as support. “Is there anything I need to know?” She glanced down to Harry who was pushing himself off the tiled floor before over to Draco who had resumed sitting in the interrogation chair so he might pluck more grapes from the vein.

“Yeah,” Draco drawled from the table as he popped another grape into his mouth. Glancing over to her an impish smirk fell across his features. “Howell really does not like you.”

* * *

**July 7th, 1999 - Ministry of Magic - The Minister’s Office - 05:00**

Disliking Hermione did not come close to the wrath of fury that Artemis Howell felt for the curly haired witch. Hermione knew she was in for a battle, but she did not realize how big it would be until they had met. When the Minister finally requested her appearance nearly three hours had passed, and as much as she wanted to spend those moments figuring out how much of her life had changed, she used it to confer with the odd pair of friends on the best way to handle getting her out of the mess she found herself in. Hermione was escorted by Malfoy and Harry to the first level of the Ministry of Magic and as she moved through the familiar halls of her place of employment, she could not help the crawly sensation that tickled her stomach before spreading out over her skin.

Everything look and felt  _ almost _ exactly the same as it had been previously. She could perhaps believe nothing had changed if she choose to ignore the occasional glaring differences, like the wallpaper that lined the Minister’s hallway. It was once a beautiful silver leaf print that almost glistened in the light with a sense of hope and promise that filled the Ministry after the restructure from the war, and now there was a dark forest green that boarded closely to black. Something so trivial should not have bothered her, but she could not help but feel unsettled by the change. 

Upon arrival to the Minister’s waiting room, Harry and Malfoy had been given explicit instructions to find all the personnel files for Hermione, but also files regarding the assignment she had been on. The instruction for this had been a direct request from the Minister (delivered via the teenage-looking intern), and according to Harry was a ploy to get Hermione alone. 

She was escorted into the Minister’s chambers once Malfoy and Harry went off to fulfill the Minister’s request. The intern did not enter the room, instead he simply held the door open for her to slip past him. She walked slowly into the chamber, glancing around to locate the Minister, but it appeared she was alone. Moving towards the desk in the back of the room, Hermione took a seat in the leather armchair on the opposite side. Her fingers ran across the old familiar leather of the chair, taking a small piece of comfort in the fact that while the wall paper and baubles which filled the office had changed, the furniture had stayed the same.

She examined the room as she waited for the Minister to appear, articles and artwork from wizarding history lined the walls and shelves, which was not uncommon for senior positions within the Ministry, but what stood out the most was that most of the articles in this room seemed to contain darker imagery than what she was used to. A hangman's noose sat behind a glass box on the left side of the room, tucked away in the corner on a pedestal was a mummified inferi hand that appeared to be clutching a large blood-colored gemstone, tomes and texts written about ancient dark magic lined the walls behind the desk, and most disturbing of all was a shadow box which contained sets of ears from various beasts and beings, including goblins, centaurs and although she could not be certain without a proper examination, a set that look distinctly human. 

When the fireplace to her left began to roar to life with green flames, Hermione’s heart beat a riot beneath her chest. Stepping from the Floo came a slender figure. The first thing Hermione noticed was short lilac hair; it reminded her of a shade favored by Tonks during their sixth year, but as far as similarities to her friend, that is where it ended. The figure was taller than Hermione, nearly six foot if she had to guess, but their build was narrow, almost delicate, but it was hard to determine that through the shapeless black robes. On the front left breast of the robe was an embroidered monogram of the initials ABH with a wreath of embroidered belladonna surrounding the letters. As the figure brushed the gray soot from their robes, Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Auror Granger,” came a soft voice that was far too high-pitched to belong to anyone other than a woman. “How wonderful to see you again. I did wish it was going to be under different circumstances.” The lilac haired witch lifted her head towards Hermione and a pair of vibrant yellow-green eyes glinted in the soft morning light. As a Cheshire-cat-like smile too wide for her thin face spread across her hallowed-out features the hair on the back of Hermione’s neck stood up. She looked as if she had been caught by a predator who was going to enjoy a game of chase before they swallowed their meal whole. 

The Minister moved across the room, her  bootheels clicking against the floor as she moved to her desk. She did not move to unclasp her robe, instead simply smoothing out the billowing material before she settled into her high-back chair. “I am going to get straight to the point. Do forgive me for not beginning with pleasantries. No point in avoiding the reason you’re here, right?” Her hands folded themselves neatly atop one another as she settled into her chair.

“I...I would prefer to wait for Auror Potter and Unspeakable Malfoy to arrive.” Hermione’s voice quaked slightly in uncertainty, unsure of how the request would be taken. Malfoy and Harry had been explicitly clear about them needing to be in the room during the interrogation. Harry’s insistence was because he was certain he had enough cards in his hand to prevent the Minister from making a rash decision, while Malfoy’s was because he did not want the witch to disclose any information about the change in timelines to the Minister, who would gladly use that as cannon fodder. 

Reaching beneath her desk, she withdrew a thin crooked wand and ficked it towards the file cabinet across the room. Without a verbal incantation, the cabinet opened and a thick file began to float towards the Minister’s outstretched hand. “Well, we all would prefer different things, wouldn’t we Auror Granger?” As her long fingers curled around the thick folder she smirked maliciously before laying it upon her desk. “Like I would have preferred you not steal Ministry property to go back in time to galavant around London and Europe with your friend’s Godfather.”

Hermione’s eyes flicked from the Minister to the file on her desk and her bottom lip was bitten as she watched the witch opened it up. Sifting through newspaper clippings and Ministry  memos she could see the occasional glimpse of her own handwriting on paper.There were additional reports that looked weathered due to age, but who the author had been was unknown to her.

“Do you deny the accusation?” the Minister questioned crispy as she flicked through the file, obviously intent on finding a particular document inside it.

“I did not steal Ministry property. I was tasked with going back and --” 

“And you unintentionally went back for nearly three weeks longer than allowed?” Her tongue clicked superciliously at Hermione. “Auror Granger, I am not a fool, so please do not treat me like an uneducated dunce.” Yellow eyes flickered up to Hermione with a stern warning before she looked back down to the file. “Beyond the blatant disregard for Ministry regulation and law, you also seem to have forgotten about the code of conduct you signed after accepting the assignment.”

“Forgive me Minister, but my conduct while in the past was not in violation of the code of conduct. I upheld the integrity of the Ministry and did not relay the nature of my assignment with anyone who was not made aware of it during my first mission.” Hermione’s nervousness was quickly disappearing and being replaced by smolderings of anger beginning to bloom  inside her, wanting to correct the tone and accusations the Minister was implying. It was one thing to judge the truth, but to make slanderous claims against her character was not something she would take laying down.

“This is where you and I are going to disagree Auror Granger.” Finding the particular document she was looking for her hands flattened on the file, smoothing down the wrinkled edges of the report. Yellow eyes flashed up to Hermione as a slow smirk spread across her lips. “For I find using a volatile artifact such as a Time-Turner to go back in time to have relations with a member of the first Order of the Pheonix to be in direct violation of the code of conduct.”

Hermione’s jaw set as her teeth clenched together as a fire began to grow, igniting into a small blaze. “I did not return to have relations with anyone, Madam Minister,” she began, her words dripping with venom as her fingers curled into the soft faded brown leather of armchair she sat in. “I went back to lead a rescue mission for Remus Lupin, who was being held captive in Germany by Death Eaters. Without my assistance, it is very likely he would have ended up dead.”

“So are you denying that you had sexual relations with Sirius Black?” The Minister questioned as she arched a single lilac brow at Hermione quizzically. “Because by all accounts, if you want to submit to a physical by a med-witch to prove you have not been engaging with any men while on your mission, I will happily escort you to St.Mungo’s myself.”

“That is NONE of your fucking business!” Hermione snapped quickly, her fist slamming against the chair as she pushed herself out of the furniture to stand before her desk. “I am denying that I went back in time with the sole intent to pursue a romance with him. I fucking did what the Ministry assigned me to do, you daft fucking cow.” Hermione's finger tapped against the desktop between the Minister and herself, punctuating each point she made. “We took out several Death Eaters, and in the process lost a wonderful man. We successfully stopped Death Eater raids, and I was tracking the final members of their ranks in order to apprehend them and find where Voldemort was holed up. So you tell me, do you think I went back to fucking have a relationship? Because if that was my sole purpose, I would not have risked losing a man as great as Arthur Weasley.”

Artemis leaned back in her chair, her thin arms crossing over her small bosom as she watched Hermione’s display of anger. “I believe you are using the narrative of saving Mr. Lupin as a cover for going back to engage with Sirius Black, and unlike you, I can prove this fact.” Her hand swept in front of the opened file on her desk in a silent invitation for Hermione to grab the parchment. “In the report you will find key details regarding your affair with Mr. Black. Including key details about your mission, and how you two shared lodging in Germany, and once returned you stayed with him.” Leaning forward her elbows planted on the table as she steepled her fingers together in front of her. “So tell me, Auror Granger. How was playing house with a dead man?--”

“Stop it. Don’t you dare--”

“Did you develop your crush on him as a young girl and feel the need to finally fuck him to fulfill a life-long goal?”

“Shut up.”

“One famous wizard wasn’t enough? You had to have the matching set. Godfather and Godson?” She could see the flames of rage flicker in Hermione’s eyes as she goaded her, clearly relishing in the fact there was little Hermione could do to defend herself. Not without implicating herself further. “Oh. Don’t tell me. Did you manage to seduce Potter’s father too when you went back?”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” Hermione could feel her magic that had been struggling to control itself materialize and push out from her body. A gust of wind pushed out from her body in all directions, causing the paperwork on the desk to scatter across the room in the whirlwind that radiated from Hermione who stood in the center of the storm. The artifacts and books rattled as the hurricane raged inside the large office. Hermione’s eyes shut tight as she felt her magic seep from her as the rage bubbled over. It had been many years since she had felt the uncontrollable pull of accidental magic, and never before had she seen her abilities manifest itself so brilliantly before. 

She could hear the Minister’s chair slide across the floor, screeching against the flooring as the wind began to increase its rotational pull and force objects away from the center of the storm. The Minister wasted little time drawing her wand on Hermione, trying to steady it so she might land a hex or jinx. Lost in the chaos of her overworked emotions, Hermione did not hear the door to the office burst open.

Just as suddenly as the storm had started, it had ended, causing the floating objects in the gale-force winds to fall unceremoniously to the floor and break upon impact. Hermione stood her full height, her hands balling at her sides as her eyes leveled on the lilac-haired Minister who stood flush against the disheveled bookshelf in the corner. “Auror Potter, arrest her! She threatened the Minister of Magic and is insubordinate to the point of risking the lives of Magical and Muggle people.”

Harry crossed the threshold into the office, his boots crunching against glass and broken books as he moved towards Hermione. “With all due respect, Madam Minister,” Harry began, brilliant green eyes glancing between Hermione and the Minister as he moved closer. Reaching out his right hand went to Hermione’s elbow, guiding her back from the desk next to him as his left hand tossed the requested file on the desk. “I think that would be a very bad idea.”

“Excuse me, Auror Potter? Did you just---”

Draco, having not been far behind Harry, had closed the office door with a snap. The noise echoed around the office and cut off Artemis’s words with its noise. “Potter is right, Madam Minister.” Gray eyes scanned the office with the slightest hint of amusement as he surveyed the wreckage. “Your poll numbers have been down since your installment. You have done little to hide your detestation for Granger, Potter and Longbottom from the Ministry workers. By sending the public’s Golden Girl to Azkaban for an error on a Ministry-sanctioned assignment. Well….” His hands slid into the front pocket of his trousers as he stepped over a cluster of books to move up next to Hermione on her empty side so she was flanked by Potter and himself. A snake-like grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he continued, his prey in sight. “The Magical Peoples of Britain would find that to be a disgrace and question your judgement and if you were fit to lead us from our war-torn state into prosperity. She is a war hero, you would do well to remember that. And if they start to question your decision-making, they might begin to look into your past. We both know that won’t end well, don’t we, Artemis? They might figure out who your allegiance was with during the War, and I have it on a first-hand account that the Wizengamot might find that information useful. Being a seat holder myself, I might feel so inclined to share what I know with them.”

The Minister’s face went from flushed with fury to ghost white within seconds. Yellow eyes dropped to the floor as she let Draco’s crisp words wash over her and almost instantly Hermione could see the predator fade to become the prey as she processed that thinly veiled threats that Malfoy was verbalizing. Hermione knew the Malfoy family’s success over the years had been due to their tenacity and ability to gather dirt on people in high positions, but she had not yet been on the side in which the Malfoy’s aligned. At least not in her original timeline. If Hermione was being honest, she had to admit the role reversal was almost a relief, especially when the Minister did not utter a word to counter what the ferret had thrown her way. Instead she sat there trying to formulate a response to pull herself out darkened pit she had fallen into in just seconds time. “Are you threatening me, Unspeakable Malfoy?”

Draco let loose a chuckle as a smile was flashed at the Minister. “Oh no, Madam Minister. This is not a threat. It is a certainty should you make the decision to arrest and attempt to publically villainize Granger.” he replied crisply, gray eyes leveling with the Minister to let her know under no circumstances would the method of disposal of Auror Granger she was attempting be acceptable. “Might I suggest an alternative route, Madam Minister?” Draco lifted his hand, letting his finger smooth back the white blond hair on the top of his head, pushing the whispy hairs back into perfect alignment with the others. “Perhaps, due to the emotionally taxing nature of the assignment your office had Auror Granger on, the Ministry would require her to take a month’s paid leave to recuperate before returning to duty?”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the proposition. A month’s paid leave!? While not ungrateful for Malfoy’s calculated plan of attack on the Minister, this was not written into her own agenda. She knew returning to 1979 would be difficult to impossible, but by taking a month’s leave she would be further separated from returning to the place her heart was left. Returning to Sirius, and more importantly returning to stop Voldemort. “I don’t need a break!” Hermione injected quickly, her heart hammering an unsteady rhythm of fear beneath her chest, “and I can speak for myself, Malfoy. I’m not taking any fucking time off. I followed orders and did exactly what I was told to do.” 

Draco’s head snapped to look at the mouthy, curly-haired witch before he gave a pointed look to Harry and jutted his head to the door. “Granger, the big kids are talking now. I will come retrieve you from Potter’s care once the details have been solidified between the Minister and myself.”

“Fuck you! I said could speak for myself! I am NOT talking time off!” Malfoy in this timeline might have been Harry’s friend, but he certainly still possessed the same snark that she knew of when growing up. Hermione attempted to shrug out of Harry’s grasp as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Harry stop! I’m not leaving. I did nothing wrong.” She felt two large hands curl around her shoulders, his fingers digging softly in her flesh as she was pulled backwards  through the wreckage towards the office door. 

Before Draco could interrupt Hermione defiance, the Minister let out a hollow laugh. “Nothing wrong?” Yellow eyes narrowed on the curly haired witch as Harry ushered her out of the office before the Minister moved her gaze over to Draco who stood leaning against her desk, his relaxed demeanor contrary to the almost violent atmosphere in the room. “We will discuss the details of her punishment behind closed doors, Unspeakable Malfoy, but there is one thing I will not budge on.” Moving away from the bookshelf she had been using for support since Hermione’s uncontrolled magic outburst. “Auror Granger will be permanently dismissed from any future assignment dealing with Time-Turners.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my updates have been so sporadic lately. We have had some company for the past couple weeks that had monopolized my time. I am trying to continue my 1 chapter a week promise and I think so far I've kept that promise (give or take a day or two. ;P ). You will get to see more of Hermione in the 1999, and also Sirius in 1979. :) I have the next couple chapters plotted, so the "hard" work is done! I adore you all for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! Drop me a review and let me know what you think! For those who asked, the plan is for this story to continue for several more chapters. I have a lot of story loosely plotted, so anticipate ... 20+ more chapters. It's a hard estimate because I have a rough outline and can only guess at the later chapters at this point, but you have an idea! 
> 
> Also, I'd love some feedback. Once this story concludes I am debating doing a series of one shots that delve into the alternative time lines and the past/future/present. Would you all enjoy reading some one-offs of this universe? Let me know what you think of the idea!! ~ MM


	25. New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**July 8th, 1999 - Grimmauld Place - 03:30**

Bare feet carried Hermione down the hallway slowly, careful to avoid the floorboards she knew would creaked in protest the moment any amount of weight was barred on them. She was not ready to face Harry since he had taken her back to Grimmauld Place after being released from the Ministry. Upon arrival at the house she retreated to the bedroom on the second floor she was most familiar with as she was not ready to face Harry and the changes that resulted from her time in the past. The bedroom she retreated to was the same one she and Ginny had spent 5th and 6th year in gossiping about boys, blossoming romances at Hogwarts and of course, the war and what they could to help the efforts. When she had walked into the room she was taken aback almost instantly by the fact that instead of two twin beds tucked against opposite walls, there only stood a single bed pressed to the back wall under the large window. In this timeline, there was no need to shove two teenage girls into a single tiny room. Instead, Hermione likely spent her days in this house sleeping in this room completely alone.

She forced the sad thought into the back of her mind, knowing that if she allowed herself to become misty-eyed every single time a change was noticed, no matter how big or small, she would spend the rest of her life mourning the loss of what had been. Pushing past the grief she crawled into the single twin-sized bed, and by the time her head hit the pillow she was already succumbing to the blissful pull of sleep. She had been awake for over twenty-four hours by that point and she was in desperate need of sleep, especially if she was supposed to catch the remaining members of her childhood friendship up to speed on what exactly her assignment had been.

By the time she woke from the well-needed interlude from the world of trouble she had found herself in, the sun had set and only the soft glow of yellowed street lamps came in through the uncovered windows. If it were not for the pains of hunger from her empty belly, Hermione might have slept through the night and into the next day. Rising from the twin-sized bed, Hermione stretched her tense muscles slowly, groaning softly at the pulling ache that had formed across her spine and neck from the deep slumber. Her hands rose to push her mussed curls from her sleep pinked cheeks as she moved to the door and began down the hallway towards the staircase from her room at the back of the second floor landing.

Just had Harry had in the previous timeline, the house was slowly being renovated to its former glory. The cobwebs and dust bunnies were cleaned, the wallpaper replastered and the gaudy ornate portraits of long forgotten Black family members were replaced with photographs from Harry’s youth, creating a much more lived-in feel to the ancestral Black family home. As she moved down the hall at a snail’s pace she would pause to catch glimpse of memories of her youth hung with care. She couldn’t help but smile at a particularly old photo of Harry; he could not have been more than twelve or eleven years old judging by the shaggy mop of black hair on the top of his head. He was standing outside the owlery on the Hogwarts grounds proudly displaying his broomstick in the photo. She could see the flutter of owls as they flew through the background and if it weren’t for the fact that pictures could not speak, she could almost hear the jovial laughter from Harry as he grinned from ear to ear.

Biting her bottom lip to prevent her own laughter, Hermione moved further down the hallway to glimpse the next photo and what she saw made her gasp softly in shock. She had seen this photo before, hell she had been the one who snapped the image nearly five years ago! It had been during their third year at Hogwarts, the Hogsmeade trip right before the winter Holiday. She had dragged Ron and Harry down to Honeydukes to stock up on sweets and purchase Christmas gifts for her family and she had insisted on taking a quick photo as the snow fell in front of the Honeydukes sign. Ron had complained about the bitter cold, and Harry, sweet Harry, well he would have gone along with anything she had suggested because he did not like upsetting his friend. She sandwiched herself between the two boys she called best friends, their arms draped over her shoulders as the rosy-cheeked teens squeezed into the shot. Reaching up, her fingers touched the glass-covered photo softly as she leaned in to inspect the familiar photo for accuracy because in this timeline there was a glaring difference from the one she remembered. Instead of a freckled redhead stood a round-faced pudgy boy with dirty blond hair and large blue eyes that were glittering with a happiness she had not witnessed before. Neville. He had his arm looped around Hermione’s shoulders, laughing as she pulled him closer into the photo by his red and gold scarf. Harry’s arms were looped around Hermione’s waist, pulling the side of her body into his front and at the end of the picture loop, just after the flash from the camera had gone off, she watched as the young Harry pressed his lips into young Hermione’s cheek and a blushed crimsoned her cheeks darker as a result.

She moved to the next photo more quickly than she intended, her footsteps thumping against the wooden floor and betraying her attempts to be quiet in her urgency. A soft expletive was muttered as an image of Harry and Neville came into view. The pair were no older than fourteen at the most, and they were in the middle of the Quidditch pitch arm in arm, Harry dressed in his Gryffindor uniform and Neville proudly wearing his gold and red to cheer on his mate. As Hermione moved down the hallway from picture to picture, more images of Harry’s childhood came into view. Images of his friendship with Neville, his romance apparent with her (which was causing her more distress than she liked to admit, but that was a subject she would have to deal with later). There were even memories of his early childhood, pre-Hogwarts, where he apparently had already become well-acquainted with the Longbottoms, judging by the toothless grin of each boy who sat sandwiching Augusta Longbottom on a bench in front of Sugarplum's Sweets Shop, holding dripping cones a mere inches away from her green velvet dress robes, atop her head the famous Vulture hat she had clearly favored for many years.

Nearing the final cluster of photographs at the end of the hallway, Hermione’s heart skipped a beat as a crooked smile and devilishly handsome wizard smiled at her from several photographs. Sirius. The shaggy-haired wizard could be seen next to Harry at various stages in the young wizard’s life, the earliest photo being from when Harry was no older than five. The pair were sitting on his motorcycle on a country road, the exact location she could not make out from the photograph. Harry wore an ill-fitted jumper and had a purple bruise and cut on his right cheek, but he appeared as happy as possible. Sirius’ arms were wrapped protectively around the young boy, his dark hair blowing in the breeze as they smiled for whoever stood behind the camera to snap the photo. The next several sets of images were clearly taken within the walls of Grimmauld Place, Hermione could make that out for certain, but Harry no longer looked like the skinny abused boy from the earlier photo. No, he was healthy and free of the obvious signs of abuse from the earliest photo. As the images progressed from childhood into adolescence she watched as Harry grew to surpass his Godfather in height, changing from the gangly child into a young man. Sirius had aged so differently than she had remembered. His skin was free of the weathered wrinkles from his time in Azkaban and he held far less tattoos than before, although there were certainly plenty still poking through his clothing to be counted. His hair was not the salt-and-peppered color she had known in her youth, instead the same rich black she had seen only days ago, but years in the past.

The final photo on the wall was taken at Christmastime, based on the decor in the background. Harry stood in front of a Christmas tree in a jumper covered in knitted deers. Sirius stood proudly next to his Godson wearing what she was certain was her favorite gray jumper of his from their time together, and beside Sirius, looped under his left arm was Hermione. She wore a soft purple knitted sweater dress with cream snowflakes and had both arms looped around Sirius’ neck in a friendly fashion. They were all laughing at something off camera, and as the picture looped its scene, Hermione watched as Sirius turned to face the teen in his hold and there was a look that was undeniably romantic about the way he held her against his side, a longing in his eyes for her to look back at him the way he was looking at her. “You stupid man,” she muttered softly as her fingertips went up to touch the glass-covered photo, brushing against the moving image of her much older boyfriend. He had lived well past 1996, that much she could tell from the photographs, but something had still taken him from her--from Harry. He had heeded her warning and did not go to the Department of Mysteries and it had bought him time, but for how much longer she did not know. Part of her wanted to find out, but the other part knew that the truth might hurt deeper than the knowledge of him already being gone.

She had been so wrapped up in examining the photographs that when the door she stood next to opened she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her hands rose to defend herself from an unknown foe as she jumped back, a small yell in surprise tumbling from her lips.

“Merlin, Hermione. It’s only me!” Harry emerged from the bedroom looking equally as disheveled as his friend. His shoulder-length black hair had been pulled up into a messy knot on the back of his head. Unlike Hermione, he had managed to change into a pair of flannel pajama pants and a faded gray shirt before he had whisked himself to bed. His hand rose and he pushed two fingers under the rim of his black glasses to rub against his right eye as a small yawn was let loose. “I know you’ve been gone for a bit, but you do know we’re not all bad wizards, right?” He joked before reaching out to swat her raised fist as he moved past her.

Hermione let out a shaky breath, her hands dropping as Harry moved behind her down the hallway. “You just caught me off guard,” she explained, brown eyes dancing over the image of Sirius, Harry and herself for a final time before she turned around just in time to see Harry disappear into the second floor restroom. The light flickered on and flooded the hallway as the sound of him relieving his bladder echoed out of the room. Hermione’s eyes widened at the forwardness of the act of leaving the door open. Sure, she had known Harry for nearly nine years, but that did not mean her comfort level with him meant it was okay to leave the bloody bathroom door open! “Jesus Harry, don’t you shut doors around here?” she called out from her position at the end of the hallway as she averted her gaze to the floor.

Harry could be heard laughing from inside the restroom before the sound of the flushing toilet and running water masked his chuckling. “It isn’t like you haven’t seen it before,” he reminded her as he waltzed out of the restroom, rubbing his hands along his pajama bottoms to pull the moisture from them. “Besides, you’re in my house.” Tossing her a sleepy wink Harry moved down the hallway towards her once again, obviously intent on returning to his bedroom.

“Against my will,” Hermione reminded him of the conditions of her release, her arms crossing over her bust as he passed to cross the threshold into the darkened room he came from earlier. It was only then she noticed where she had wandered. To her immediate left was Regulus’ old bedroom. The same plaque from years ago still hung above the threshold, left as if to honor the fallen hero. Which meant that the room Harry had walked into had once belonged to Sirius. She could make out the outline of the four poster bed and a large trunk that lined the edge of the bed.

“Better to be released to stay with me than Draco, right?” Harry teased as he moved into the darkened bedroom. He had left the door open behind him as he moved through the darkness and the creak of springs let her know he had crawled back into the bed. “Ya comin?” he called from the darkness, mid-yawn.

“Oh...uh, sure.” Hermione glanced down the hallway, as if to make sure no one would witness her entrance into his bedroom like the last time they had been in this house together. She left the bedroom door ajar an inch, not sure of the protocol one was supposed to take while going into their ex-boyfriend’s room. The simple change in the past had complicated more than Hermione had liked to admit. Her relationship with Harry had been so simple before; never did it cross her mind to think of the boy she had grown up with as anything other than a brother. She had held no qualms about crawling into his bed previously, knowing that any salacious intent was far from both of their minds, but now. Her changed past had obviously shown they had been more than friends, this much was obviously by the way he touched her, and the photographs in the hallway.

Her hand went out in front of her, touching the soft mattress to brace herself as she moved to sit on the opposite edge of the bed from Harry, her eyes straining through the darkness to try and take in the room.

“Draco told me you might have some questions,” Harry began from the opposite side of the bed in the darkness. “Something about time travel making you forget. I don’t remember exactly, if I am being honest. He showed up a couple hours ago and I was so bleedin’ tired.” He leaned across the bed to grab something off of the nightstand and a small clicking sound could be heard. A soft glowing orb floated from Harry’s hand to the opposite wall where an ornate wall mounted candelabra was housed above the fireplace. Two more clicks from the deluminator allowed two more orbs to flow to the room’s lighting source providing a dimmed glow so they might see one another. “So let’s get them out of the way so we can go back to being normal, yeah?”

Hermione watched as Harry tossed the intricate green lighter back to the surface of the nightstand before he rolled on his side to face her, tucking a pillow between his arm and head to prop himself up just slightly. Shifting on the bed Hermione tucked her right leg under her as she turned to face the friend she had known for so long. This same friend who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. As much as she hated to admit it, she was also grateful for Malfoy’s assistance in explaining the numerous question Hermione would have. She would have to remember to thank the ferret later, but only right after hexing him as retribution for pulling her off the assignment. “Everything is just a bit fuzzy,” she lied. “It’s not like I don’t remember you. I could never forget my best friend. I just…” Her lips pursed as she tried to find the proper way to continue. “I just don’t understand the dynamic of our relationship.”

Harry could not prevent the small snigger of laughter her question triggered, and judging by his response she had a funny feeling that this was not the first time he had heard this question. “You’ve been my best friend since we were eleven,” Harry began and when he caught the unamused ‘I-already-know-that’ look on her face he gave a small shrug in feigned ignorance. “Just making sure you remember that!” He explained before rolling onto his back, his hands going up to lock behind his head. “Well….how far back should I go then? What don’t you remember?”

“Well, the Minister implied we had been romantic, and judging by those pictures in the hallway and the way you grabbed my arse back at the Ministry, I would say we were. So how about you start there?” she offered, shifting up on the bed until her back was pressed against the antique headboard. As she slipped back on the bed she allowed her legs to slide under the covers to protect herself from the evening summer chill, but she made sure to leave adequate space between herself and Harry.

Harry couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear at her request and a heavy breath was taken before he tipped his head up to look at her. “The moment I saw you at King’s Cross during our third year I was pretty sure I was in love,” he joked, rolling onto his stomach to face her as he reminisced. “It took me until Christmas to convince you to date me. You were worried Neville would feel like the odd man out, but his interest in witches had not really picked up yet. He loved those damn plants too much.” Laughing at his own joke, Harry looked down at his fingers as he laced them together, his tongue darting across his bottom lip. “We dated through the end of our fifth year. You uh….” Harry looked up to catch her eye as his cheshire cat like grin softened to a small smile. “We were each other's firsts and I was heartbroken when you ended things but I understood. I went to visit you at St. Mungo’s after the Department of Mysteries fiasco and you told me we couldn’t be together because it was too risky with the war. I remember thinking how fucking stupid you were, but Uncle Sirius talked me off the ledge. He told me you were right...that it was too dangerous because if we were together you would have a larger target on you back.”

“We have not been together….intimately… in years. Much to my disappointment.” Harry teased, which earned him a small kick from Hermione. “Heey! You asked for the recap. I was just being honest,” he joked as he winked at the witch.

Hermione shook her head before glancing away from Harry to around the room, noting the small knicknacks of Sirius’ that lined the shelves and dresser top. As much of Harry had been moved into this room, there was still so much of his Godfather left it was hard to not notice. “Harry this wasn’t your room. Not always, right?” she questioned.

Harry followed her line of sight to the shelf on the far end of the wall and he slipped from the bed quickly. “No. I used to be down the hall. After Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus died I kind of moved in here. I guess I just wanted to be close to him, I dunno. Nev helped me move my things into the room little by little as we cleared out the mess,” he explained as he reached up on his tiptoes to pull down an aged leather-bound book that had bits of paper sticking out from its pages. “You remember Neville, right?” Harry questioned.

“Of course I remember Neville, Harry!” Hermione scolded and as he held out the leatherbound book to her she pulled it into her lap. The front cover was blank, no details on what was inside, but from what she could see now that it was up close, the bits of paper that hung out the sides were photographs. Glancing up to Harry her brow knitted in slight confusion before she looked down to the tome in her hand and she cracked the front page open.

“Uncle Sirius’ scrapbook. Found it once we cleared out his room. There’s some old pictures you can skip past. Just him in various spots around Muggle London. But towards the end he’s got a lot of pictures of us and some Prophet clippings. Might help jog your memory,” he explained as he reached over her to move past the series of photos that held far more meaning to her than he had realized.

Hermione bit her bottom lip at the thought of Sirius holding on to the precious memories of their final trip together, even going as far as to keep the ticket stub to the concert. He was nearly a third through the photo album before he paused flipping the pages and he tapped a large black and white photo of Harry, Hermione and Neville in front of Hogwarts. “Ahh yeah. Here we go. This was the parents’ weekend during our third year. Uncle Sirius met you for the first time. I remember he nearly choked on his tea when you rushed over to us in the Great Hall. I think he was shocked by that mop on your head you called hair,” Harry teased as he tapped the riotous curls in the photo that Hermione had yet to figure out how to tame.

“Excuse me, Mr.Potter. I do believe you were as unkempt as I was,” she shot back as she waved his figure off the photograph before her bottom lip was bitten. She wanted to scour this book for memories, to try and figure out how much of her past had changed, but she knew that if she began down that path it would be harder to separate herself when it came time to leave--if that chance ever presented itself again. “Can I look at this later?” Glancing up to her friend who had settled next to her on the headboard, Harry nodded.

“Of course. Sorry I just--I wanted my old Hermione back. I don’t mean to force this on you.”

“No, no it’s not that. I’m just tired. It’s late and I just need to have some time to wrap my mind around what you’ve told me already,” she explained. Shutting the leatherbound scrapbook took all the strength she had within her and as she slid it into his lap, she knew that she could never look through the memories. Not when her intention was to fight her way back to the past.

Harry took the book and set it on his nightstand, and plucking the deluminator from the nightstand he began to recall the light from the room one click at a time. “Will you stay here tonight?” he requested as he moved down beneath the thick comforter.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, weighing the consequences in her head. “If you keep your hands to yourself.” And when no protest was made she slipped under the covers next to him. She felt his hand go out to touch her shoulder before slipping down the length of her arm until their fingers touched and he slowly wrapped his hand around hers. Not lacing their fingers together like he had earlier, but rather enveloping her smaller hand in his.

“I missed you ‘Mione,” Harry whispered across the bed and he gave her a comforting squeeze before pulling his hand away as he rolled over to face the opposite side of the room as he fluffed his pillow for comfort.

A smile graced her lips and as he pulled away she reached out to press her palm flat against his upper back in a comforting gesture she had done many times when they had fallen asleep side by side while hunting Horcruxes. “I missed you too, Harry,” she replied before pulling the thick comforter up to her chin as she snuggled into the plush mattress. She had spoken the truth, for the weeks she had spent in the past, she could not help but miss the raven-haired man who lay next to her. He had helped shape her childhood and adolescence; they had gone through so much together in her original timeline, and the more time she had spent around Lily and James, she could not help but long for his company in the more jovial times. Harry deserved to know them, to grow up with a set of parents as loving and as kind as they were. He embodied so much of them she could only imagine how much would change if she was able to go back and complete the mission she had been sent on. Hell, how much of her own life would change due to that fact. Without a second wizarding war, she would still have her parents and a normal life, and part of her hoped that if she was to go back and stop the second war from happening, then she might also have Sirius waiting for her as well.

As they laid side by side, Harry’s soft breath beginning to lull Hermione back to sleep, it was interrupted by sudden realization. “Oh, ‘Mione I forgot to mention,” he grunted sleepily over his shoulder to the tired witch who had snuggled close. “Tonks stopped by with Teddy earlier. I’d forgotten about our dinner plans. She’s coming by in the morning to drop Teddy off for a couple hours,” he grumbled as he balled the pillow up under his head. “Just wanted to give you the heads up.”

Hermione eyes snapped open instantly as any sort of sleep she had been hoping to achieve for the remainder of the night had been whisked away at the sleepy revelation of her best friend. Nymphadora Tonks was alive and, better yet, had still managed to wear down the moody werewolf’s walls enough to sneak into a place in his heart (and bedroom).

* * *

**July 8th, 1999 - Grimmauld Place - 10:00**

Hermione had not managed a wink of sleep the rest of the night. Instead she lay awake next to Harry until his soft snores had filled the room and she slipped out of the bed and moved down to the second landing to work through the numerous changes in her head. First, she had a fairly lengthy romantic past WITH HER BEST FRIEND. Second, Neville was Harry’s childhood best friend?! Third, Harry had been with Sirius for FAR LONGER than he had originally; she did not even get to investigate this tidbit of history yet, but it was on her growing list. Fourth, TONKS WAS ALIVE. Unable to verbalize her excitement (and confusion) over the changes, Hermione had to focus her energy on doing something other than spinning out of control.

Which is why when Harry had found her at half past seven she was in the small library on the first floor manually alphabetizing every single book in the collection. She had just completed the letter ‘P’ and was beginning her pre-sort of the small ‘Q’ section when he had to physically pull her from her task.

He did not question what she was doing, because apparently Hermione in this timeline was prone to fits of odd organizational behavior just as she had been in her original timeline. Instead he forced her into the kitchen and cooked up a plate full of eggs, sausage and toast before forcing her to eat the entire portion. They ate in silence as they filled their bellies and sipped the morning tea. Both were unsure of how to proceed until Harry finally broke the silence to tell her she should probably shower before Tonks and Teddy showed up.

“I’m not saying you stink, but I’m pretty sure I can see flies wafting about your head,” he had teased before sending her up to the second floor to clean up. She showered quickly, eager to see the smiling face of a friend she had not been around in over a year. Harry had left out a set of clothing for her, obviously retrieved from her flat because she did not remember packing the pair of Muggle jeans or olive green tank top. Slipping into the garments, she magically dried her short curls before pinning the front back with two bobby pins she was able to find in the bottom of a drawer.

As she exited the bathroom she could hear Tonks’ voice carry up the hallway as she told Harry to go retrieve a favored sippy cup of Teddy’s from the kitchen. Bare feet carried Hermione in a hurry down the flight of stairs and as she rounded into the living room she nearly collided with Harry who was holding the nearly one year old tot. “Teddy!!” Hermione couldn’t contain herself at the sight of the blue haired boy. Reaching out to the tot in Harry’s arms she touched the side of his chubby cheeks as she leaned up on her toes to press a kiss against the top of his blue curls.

“Well that’s more of a welcome than I got, Tedward,” Harry told the tot who was giggling as he tried to pull a fistful of Hermione’s curls towards his mouth. “Consider yourself special.” Harry’s fingers tickled the tot’s stomach in order to get him to drop his grip on Hermione’s hair.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry’s words. “What Uncle Harry does not realize, is that if he were as adorable as you, I would have gladly showered him with kisses,” she told the squealing toddler before she winked up to her friend who looked playfully wounded by her words.

“Women. Stay away from them, Teddy. They’re no good,” he warned his godson as he moved around Hermione, continuing his path towards the kitchen. “We’ll be back in there in just a moment. You want to wait and I’ll walk in with you?” Harry offered, knowing that the reunion might be a little difficult for his friend. She had had a hard time remembering bits of their shared past, it was not a far stretch for him to assume she would struggle with Tonks as well.

“I’ll be fine. You better hurry though, because I am in desperate need of snuggles from that little boy.” Flashing a reassuring grin to the pair she moved down the hallway and into the living room once Harry had slipped into the kitchen with a promise of being quick.

As she crossed the threshold into the living room she spotted the familiar face of Tonks lounging on the couch with her booted feet propped up on the coffee table. Her bubble gum pink shoulder length hair had been pulled back in a messy bun at the top of her head, and judging by the bags under her eyes, it appeared as if the single mother had not had a good night’s sleep in a long while. When she spotted Hermione she rose quickly from the faded plaid couch, her trench coat brushing the surface of the floor as she moved towards Hermione. “There’s the little runaway,” Tonks teased before bringing Hermione in for a tight squeeze.

Hermione’s slender arms wound around Tonks’ middle, giving her friend a hug that might be a little more tight than intended, but Hermione was unable to help it. She was alive!! Teddy would have a chance at being raised by one of his parents, which meant that at least in this timeline, some good had come from the shit hand she had been dealt since her return. “It’s good to see you, Tonks.”

Pulling back from the hug, the pink haired metamorphmagus pulled Hermione to an arm’s length away as Tonks scanned her face, looking for something that Hermione was unsure of. “So, I have to ask-” Tonks began as her hands slipped off Hermione’s shoulders so she might cross her arms over her bust. “Which Hermione are you now?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione questioned as she cocked her head to the side, brow furrowing quizzically at the sleep-deprived mother. Which Hermione? She was still the same Hermione as before, technically the only people that had changed were the ones who she returned to in this timeline. Reaching up Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear as she shrugged. “I’m just me. There is only one of me,” she explained.

“Oh, come on now. You know what I mean,” Tonks offered with a wave of her hand as she turned her back to Hermione to move back over to the couch. “Are you Harry’s Hermione or--” She flopped back down on the couch and kicked her booted feet up onto the coffee table before patting the spot next to her. “--are you Sirius’ Hermione? Remus never did tell me what year it was when you met them.” Tonks flashed a knowing grin at the shell-shocked Hermione who stood frozen in the exact spot she had left her moments ago in the middle of the room. “So I guess what I’m asking is….did you shag the old dog yet or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for commenting, following, liking and sharing my fic! You are all lovely and I enjoy reading every single review that you leave. I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I am enjoying writing it!
> 
> As always, much love to my amazing Alpha & Beta, KnitKnitRead & Islandgurl777. They let me bounce my crazy ideas off them and deal with my ramblings!


	26. Hurricane Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**July 27th, 1979 - Three Broomsticks - 14:30**

Sirius had ambled up to the bar nearly two hours ago and had yet to return to the celebration in the private room beyond the closed set of doors in the pub. It was not that he was not elated for James and Lily’s marriage; he was ecstatic for his friends and wanted to desperately to celebrate the happy couple with the group. But the longer he sat in that room with the intimate crowd of their closest friends and family, he couldn’t help but feel slight pangs of jealousy course through his body. Even so, if you had asked him to identify those feelings by name, he would have likely told you to fuck off.

A week ago James and Sirius had returned from a particularly nasty mission where both men had barely made it out alive. It was the same night that James popped the question, not wanting to spend a single moment longer not married to the love of his life. In James’ retelling of the engagement he had romantically gotten down on one knee and asked for her hand like a true gentleman. Lily’s version was far less romantic, as he had burst into their bedroom at nearly three in the morning covered in ash and fresh wounds and woken her up by demanding they run off that instant to wed. Lily had managed to talk the manic wizard off his proverbial cliff and a compromise had been made, pushing their engagement to one week so she might notify her family and invite them to witness their union.

The pair of wed at the Ministry, as was custom with rushed weddings, and although there were whispers about why the pair would need to wed so quickly, none of their closest friends let the rumors spread to the bride or groom. The ceremony had been simple. James in a borrowed set of dress robes, Lily in a Muggle white sundress and the rest of the Marauders in tow in their finest clothes. Even Sirius hung up his beloved leather for the day and wore a white button down with a thin black tie and black trousers.

After the ceremony the newlyweds had insisted everyone go to the Three Broomsticks to continue the celebration and join them for a meal, as it had been the location of their first date during their 7th year at Hogwarts. This is how Sirius had found himself pulled up the bar working on his seventh glass of Firewhiskey by two in the afternoon. Bring the tumbler to his lips he drained the last of the amber liquid before he signaled to Rosmerta for a refill. He could feel the effects of the liquor already working through his system and crimsoning his cheeks, but at this point the numbness that came from nursing the bottle felt a lot better than dealing with the pains of jealousy and a broken heart because the one good thing that managed to walk into his life in the last year had vanished just as quickly as she had arrived.

It had been nearly twenty days, and while it was not unusual for her to go for long periods of time between coming back to see him, based off their last conversation before the Time-Turner stole her away, he knew her return was likely not to come. At first he had believed it was just a precaution on her part, but as he replayed the memories the signs became more apparent. As thoughts of losing her swirled through his mind, his heart began to beat an unsteady rhythm of anger and regret.  How could he have been so stupid? Why did he let her go? He should have taken that damned Time-Turner and smashed it to a million pieces! The consequences be damned, they could have figured out a way to save James and Lily together!

As the barmaid ambled up to Sirius he glanced up from his fixation on his empty tumbler and frowned when he noticed she did not hold the bottle of liquor. “I think you have had enough, Sirius.” the blonde explained as she reached out to pry the tumbler from betwixt his fingers.

“Aw, come on Rosie,” Sirius slurred. “I’m just celebrating James and Lily!” he lied as he flashed the barmaid a force grin before gesturing to the party room behind him. He knew that the barmaid’s perception for mistruths was likely far greater than his ability for deceit at the moment, but he had to try, right? He’d run out of whiskey at home and could hardly ask Remus to go fetch him a fresh bottle from the market in his current state.

“Looks like you’re attending a funeral by the way you’re draining the whiskey,” Placing the tumbler in the bar’s washbin beneath the countertop she gave Sirius a firm headshake before flashing a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Pup. You’re cut off. Why don’t you go join your friends? Maybe walk off a bit of the drink.”

Sirius let out a heavy sigh, reaching up to push the shaggy black hair back from his gray eyes as he glanced over his shoulder to the room that was bubbling with laughter. Go back to his friends? He did not want to bring his melancholy into their day. They had every reason in the world to celebrate, and it was bad enough he was out here drowning his misery into the bottom of the bottle, but to go in there and be around them when he felt like this… Wrinkling his nose at the thought, his head shook. “I’ll jus’ go home,” he muttered while sliding off the barstool.

He was halfway through the pub’s dining hall when he realized a quick trip to the loo was in order before he attempted to Apparate home. Changing his course, the dark haired wizard veered from his path and moved towards the back of the pub, utilizing the backs of various chairs (empty or otherwise occupied) to assist him with his journey.

“Front door’s the other way, love.” Rosmerta called from behind the bar where she was pouring a round of Butterbeers for other patrons.

“I know, I know,” His right hand rose to wave off the inquisition as if it was a small gnat flying around his head. “I need the loo.” Moving around the cluster of tables Sirius pushed against the heavy wooden door of the lavatory and smack into the back of someone in the restroom. “Oh shit. Sorry, mate.” He muttered, glancing up from the ground where his vision had been held since the tricky bastard of a floor had not stopped swirling since he rose from the bar.

A tall brunette man simply pressed closer to the wall he had been standing in front of, his back still to Sirius, not bothering to utter a response or look over his shoulder because he was currently doing something else with his mouth that was far more important than excusing a drunk patron for stumbling into him.

Remus was flush against the wall, his hands fisted into the front of the brunette’s shirt, holding him close as the man kissed and licked his way down his throat, their bodies mid-grind in a fevered need when the sound the door opening caught his attention. Before he could tell the other man to stop as their solitude was rudely interrupted, he felt the brunette’s hand run the length of his cock through his trousers, and Remus only managed to groan in pleasure before tipping his head back against the tiled wall. It would not be the end of the world if they got caught, right? I mean….what’s the worst that could happen? People always went to weddings to get laid; he was just following the societal norm for the first time in his nineteen years alive.

Sirius’ eyebrows pinched together as an all too familiar groan echoed off the walls of the restroom. Turning his gaze to the man he had just bumped into his brows show up to his hairline in shock as he realized who had been making those noises. He knew that face all too well. The slightly parted lips, jade green eyes rolled to the back of his head as a soft pink blushed the apples of his cheeks.

“M-Moony!?” Sirius croaked before coughing over his words as he began to back towards the door, his right hand searching blindly behind him for the handle. He might have been drunk, but he was not inebriated enough to not know the face of his best friend of eight years. “Shit… I… Uh.. I’m sorry,” Sirius managed to get out before grasping the cold metal handle to the door and took his rapid exit from the small restroom.

Remus’ eyes snapped open almost instantly at the use of his nickname and his head smacked against the tile in his urgency to push the brunette off him. “Ow, fuck!” He cursed, slipping out from beneath the burly wizard as his hand rose to rub against the lump. “Sirius--shit!” Frowning as the door swung closed at his friends hasty retreat, Remus glanced to the confused brunette he had just been snogging and he held up his index finger. “Just give me a second….okay?” He started toward the bathroom door before pausing to look over his shoulder at brunette with kiss swollen lips, moving back to him quickly and grabbing the front of his shirt to pull him in for one last, rough kiss before parting. “Maybe two seconds.” He smirked at the obvious lust that flashed in the man’s eyes before he let go of the front of the wizard’s shirt and exited the bathroom.

It was just his fucking luck. He had met the brunette only days ago at a small Wizarding pub outside of Cokeworth that was rumored to be a underground scene for the gay community in Britain. Of course, upon arrival, it did not take long for Remus to learn those rumors were entirely baseless as half of the patrons were well into their hundreds and seemed to frequent the Rusty Duck because of the cheap beer and decent meals they served. Figuring he did not want to waste the trip, Remus had settled at the bar squeezed between a Wizard with a beard that nearly reached the floor and a witch who had a lump on her back the size of a small terrier. That is where he met Shannon, the bartender. Young, with a smile that could stop a man in his tracks and a thick Irish accent to boot, it wasn’t hard to see why Remus took the risk of hitting on him. It had obviously played in his favor, as all he had to do was owl the man to get him here after a couple rounds of Gigglewater. He ought to have known it was all moving a little bit too smoothly, as the Lupins did not exactly have a great track record with luck. Remus’ lycanthropy was a clear example of that fact.

While he still harbored deep feelings for Sirius, Remus knew that his best friend clearly had no intent of reliving the past with him and giving their relationship another go. On the surface he blamed the unbearable curly haired witch, but deep down, if he truly had to admit it, he knew the relationship was over well before she barged into their lives. He had long ago given up the fear of passing his curse on to someone else when he realized his preference for wizards at age 16. It was not like blokes could become pregnant, right? Due to that fact, in his mind the risk of spreading his disease was greatly diminished. Coupling his sexual preference with the fact that sex was far more fun than anyone had ever let on in his youth, Remus was eager to enter the dating pool. It was not like he was looking for love- quite the opposite in fact. His motivation to put himself out there was far more carnal that any good bookworm should acknowledge.

Remus caught sight of his friend slipping out the front door of the pub just as he exited the loo and made quick work following him. As he exited the pub, his hand rose to his brow to shield his eyes from the bright afternoon sun as his eyes adjusted from the dark. “Sirius, wait!” he called out to his friend who was moving towards the Apparition point.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder and he paused his retreat to turn in his spot. “What are you doing, Moony?” he questioned as confusion washed over his features. “Go back in there--”

“I thought you went home already,” Remus interrupted as he moved down the dirt road toward his friend, hands sliding into the front pockets of his gray trousers. His sandy blonde hair ruffled in the soft summer breeze, causing the fringe to drift across his forehead. “You alright, Pads?” He had noticed for the past week or two his roommate had been spending far too much time holed up in his room, avoiding their group of friends. It was unlike him, and if Remus had to guess, judging by the strong scent of Firewhiskey that had wafted off the wizard when he was caught mid foreplay in the tiny restroom, Sirius had spent the majority of the reception sitting at the bar by himself drinking far too much of the addictive liquor. And as much as Remus wanted nothing more than to go back into the pub and shag that brunette wizard silly, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for not checking in on Sirius, who was so clearly hurting and not telling his friends about it.

“Am I alright?” Sirius let out a little laugh as he shook his head before gesturing to the pub behind Remus. “You were two seconds away from shagging some bloke! What the fuck are you doing out here, Moony? Go back ‘nside and have a bit of fun,” he encouraged his friend, gray eyes wide with amusement. The fact that Remus had been dating around did not bother Sirius, not in the least. In fact he was quiet happy that the wizard had taken the plunge to enter the dating scene, but he would have to admit he was a bit shocked to know (and see) Remus was keen enough to shag someone in the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks. That was usually more of his style, not the werewolf’s. Sirius stumbled a little as his body swayed with a drunken swagger as he struggled to maintain his composure, Remus darted forward to catch his falling friend.

Remus’ hands grabbed ahold of Sirius’ forearm and shoulder, stabilizing his momentum before he could topple onto the floor. “What? You mean Shannon?” Remus let go out Sirius’ shoulder to wave a hand away from them in a dismissive manner before shrugging his shoulders. “He’ll just have to wait. I gotta get you home.” Jade green eyes flashed up to Sirius’ gray and tossed him a wink before his hand slid up the Sirius’ forearm and over his shoulder to gently nudge the Animagus safely under his arm.

Sirius stiffened under the protective hold of his friend, obviously torn between giving into the comfort of Remus’ touch and demanding he go back into the Three Broomsticks to finish whatever the hell he had started with the wizard. “Remus. You dun’ gotta do this.”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” Remus told the wizard flatly, and as his hand capped over Sirius’ shoulder, he gave it a small reassuring squeeze. “But I’m going to because that’s what we do. Marauders stick together, remember? You saved my arse a couple months ago; the least I could do is make sure you don’t splinch yourself.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned his head into his friend’s shoulder, giving into the guidance. “I’ve never fucking splinched. I got full marks on my Apparition test,” Sirius reminded his friend with a stubborn tone as they ambled down the dirt road. “Pete’s the one you should be escorting home like some fucking noble bastard. He’s lost his toe more than once.” Unable to help himself, Sirius let out a small chuckle under his breath at the memory.

As the pair made it to the Apparition point Remus moved his arms around Sirius’ middle and he eased his ex into his embrace gently. Sirius knew that Remus would likely regret leaving his potential fuck buddy later, and would likely give him copious amounts of shit regarding the missed opportunity once Sirius had sobered up, but in this moment he was grateful for him. Grateful for their friendship, and the fact that Remus was right; Marauder's did stick together. Sirius leaned his head against Remus’ shoulder, the tip of his nose brushing against the love bitten skin on Remus’ neck as his eyes closed in preparation for the Side-along.

Sirius knew it should not been stupid enough to let his misery consume him today. He should not have allowed himself to drink so much, not when they were supposed to be celebrating James and Lily. He should be back at Three Broomsticks celebrating with the rest of their friends, not pitying himself for the hand that fate had dealt him. But he missed her. She should be there with him, underneath his arm as they drank. She should be there by his side while they raised their glasses in a toast to the new Mrs.Potter, and James’ accomplishment of finally marrying the woman of his dreams. She should been the one to coax him home from the pub because he drank too much. She should have been there.

Sirius could feel the pull of apparition, but barely registered when his boots hit the ground outside his flat in Puddlemere. His eyes cracked open and his head tipped back from the warmth of Remus’ chest when he felt the werewolf gently shake his shoulders to pull him from the haze of his drunken misery.

“You were never a sloppy drunk before,” Remus teased his friend, his hand going up to pet the inky locks on the side of Sirius’ head for a brief moment. “You are clearly out of practice, mutt,” Remus teased as he looped his arm around Sirius once more. Retrieving his wand from the inside pocket lining his jacket, Remus lowered the wards they had placed on the flat during their departure earlier in the day. Once the front door’s lock gave an audible pop at its release, Remus began to guide the drunken Sirius into their shared home.

They moved through the living room in silence, and as much as Remus wanted to believe that Sirius could make the short journey from the living room to the bedroom without error, he did not leave Sirius’ ability to chance. He had cleaned up a drunken mess from this wizard one too many time to risk leaving him alone. Opening the bedroom door he eased Sirius into the center of his mattress. “Alright, Padfoot. I’m taking your boots off but you’re on your own for your trousers, mate.”

Sirius snorted at his words and lifted his head, watching Remus kneel down at his feet and begin to unlace his boots. “Ya think Prongs will forgive me?” Sirius croaked after several moments of silence, his voice thick with regret.

“Huh?” Remus had successfully removed the right boot and set it down next to his crouching form before beginning to unlace the other, nimble fingers making quick work of the knot.

“Cause I’m not there….cause I….cause I fucking drank too much,” Sirius grumbled as his hands went to his eyes as he felt them brim with hot tears that were threatening to fall. As he lay there, letting Remus take care of him he couldn’t help but feel more emotional than he had while sitting at the bar. Perhaps it was encouraged by the Firewhiskey that was working its way through his system, or maybe it was just that time had filled up his cup until it was running over, but whatever the reason was, he felt betrayed as the first two tears leaked from his eyes and ran down the side of his face along his temples to splash against his burgundy comforter.

Remus slowly peeled Sirius’ socks from his feet before stuffing them into his boots. When he stood to look down at the man on the center of the bed, all thoughts of a quick retreat back Shannon at the pub vanished instantly. Sirius was crying; the tears were silent except for his heavy breathing, but Remus knew the unmistakable tremors that shook his ex’s body as he covered his face to shield him from seeing what was happening. “Padfoot, you know he won’t be mad,” Kicking off his own loafers Remus crawled up next to his friend, reaching out to gently ease Sirius’ hands away from his face so he could look at him. “What’s going on, Sirius? This isn’t about skipping Prongs wedding dinner so don’t try to lie. You’ve been out of sorts for weeks.”

Sirius’ gray eyes stayed closed as Remus pried his hands away from his cheeks. Only when he felt the rough skin of Remus’ knuckles against his temples brushing the fallen tears away, Sirius allowed his eyes to open as he exhaled a shaky breath. When jade green and gray finally met, Sirius could not help but feel compelled to tell him. The truth had been eating him inside for weeks. When Hermione was here it was much more simple, as he was not bearing the weight of her secret alone, but now... Now he had it to himself, and it was becoming too much. Coupling that with the fact his heart felt like it was shattering into a million tiny slivers, he had to tell someone. Besides, Remus was always the smartest of their group. He could help him find a way to get back to her.  He would do that for him, wouldn’t he? “She’s not coming back, Moony.”

Remus stroked the side of Sirius’ face and into his soft hair, trying his best to calm the man down the only way he knew how. Even well before their short lived romance, Remus would console Sirius the same way on nights his dreams were particularly unpleasant. At Sirius’ words Remus cocked his head ever so slightly to the left. Had she told him about their meeting in the cafe? Had he been aware this whole time about her plans to not return? “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s not coming back, Moony. Hermione...She…” Sirius shook his head before rolling onto his side to face Remus, his face pressing against the werewolf’s chest as took a moment to bury his emotions just enough so he did not break down further than he had allowed himself already. “She can’t come back. She tried to tell me, but I was so bloody stupid. I wasn’t listening.”

Remus gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to find the curly hair tart and give her a piece of his mind, but how he would begin the process of locating her was unknown. She had said she was working with the MACUSA but that lie was so thick he could see stink trails wafting off of her words as they tumbled from her pretty mouth. After their early morning meeting in the muggle cafe, it left little doubt that the witch had been lying about her past, but also her intentions of returning were slim to none. Nonetheless he had to keep up a front for Sirius; perhaps giving him some false hope of her return could ease his broken heart. Even if just temporary. “You don’t know that, Sirius. She is probably just busy. She’ll come back,” he lied, his hand going up to smooth the hair on the back of  Sirius’ head in an affectionate pet.

“No. You don’t get it Moony. She’s not coming back,” Sirius looked up from his place nestled against his friend’s chest to catch his eye and as gray connected with jade green he moved himself up until they were level with one another. “She’s not from here, not now at least. She’s not going to come back and I fucking let her go. I should have stopped her. I should have found that fucking necklace and tossed in the bottom of a bloody lake the first moment she walked into our flat.”

“I know she is working America, but Pads, that isn’t something a Portkey can’t fix. It is not like it is another planet, although sometimes those American Wizards do act like aliens.”

“Remus, no. She’s---oh gods, this is going to sound like I’m taking the piss- but she’s not from here because she is from the future. She used some bloody muggle tea-timer turned magic to come back last time and--”

Remus’ brow furrowed at his friend’s rambling and he pulled back from holding Sirius to look down at the rambling wizard. Tea-timer? Future? Unlocking his arms from around his ex, Remus pushed himself up on the mattress to a sitting position before pulling his friend up. “Whoa, stop,” Remus cut off  him off with a wave of his hand and a perplexed tone. “What do you mean future? A magical tea-timer?”

Sirius set his lips in a thin line as he exhaled heavily through his nose causing his nostrils to flare. Of course he wasn’t going to believe him. Not right away at least, but Sirius had to convince him. “She working for the Ministry, but not right now. Technically she isn’t even alive yet… not right now at least. Merlin, this sounds like I’m looney. Remus, Hermione is from 1999. I know this sounds fake, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I saw the pendant, held it in my hand, and I saw her use it when she left.”

“Pendant? What do you mean?”

“The bloody tea-timer! It’s the size of a snitch, except silver. Instead of winding, it has all these rings around it and in the middle is a bloody hourglass. I don’t remember what she called it. Time something,” Sirius struggled to remember the correct name, his eyes glancing up to the ceiling as the possibilities rolled through his mind.

“Time-Turner?!” Remus asked incredulously.

“Yes! A Time-Turner!”

Remus shook his head quickly as he slipped off the bed. He had just read an article about the Ministry investigating use of time magic on humans, but they were years away from experiments. This had to be a fucking joke. He paced the width of the bed in front of his friend as one hand went up to punch the bridge of his nose. “Sirius, this girl is not who you thought she was. She’s obviously lied--”

“She isn’t lying! I just told you I saw it myself. I’ve seen her use it. It’s fucking real. They sent her back to help us stop that bastard because he doesn’t stop with just killing Muggles.”

While Remus paced at the foot of the bed, Sirius pulled his legs into his lap until he sat like a small child, ankles crossed over one another as he told Remus all about Hermione. Sirius spoke of how they met at the Ministry on New Years of this year, and the missions including Romania. Sirius told him the night she turned up on his front porch after her abrupt departure and her admission of her past and his future. The possibility of losing so many people he had held so dear, and the potential future that had been so heavily weighing upon him. As he spoke about their future (her past), it felt like each revelation allowed him to lift himself up from under the boulder than had been sitting directly on the center of his chest.

Sirius’ gray eyes tracked Remus’ as he paced before him, watching for signs of needing to stop the deluge of information so he did not overload his friend. As he finished, and Remus did not react except to continue his pacing, Sirius moved to the edge of the bed, his toes touching the carpet as he reached out to snag his friend by his wrist. “Moony, say something.”

Remus’ head turned to look at Sirius, eyes dancing between Sirius and the bed before he reached up to drag his thumb across his lower lip in thought. He knew something had been off about this girl since the moment he laid eyes on her, and while being a time-traveling trollop did not give explanation to everything he found odd about Hermione, it certainly could explain her horrid fashion sense and odd scent that seemed to waft off of her. “So let me get this straight,” Remus pulled his wrist from Sirius and he moved to sit on the bed next to him, carefully tucking his left leg under his arse as he sat down. “You fancy a witch, from the future, who was sent back by the Ministry to help kill Voldemort because--”

“Because he kills our friends. He doesn’t stop with just them, Moony. He comes back after killing Lily and James and tries to take over the British Ministry. From what she says they stop him in in the future, but it takes nearly eighteen years. During that time they-we- lose a lot more than just us. Hell, he even tries to kill Harry! He was just a baby.”

“And remind me again, who the fuck is Harry?”

“James and Lily’s son. My Godson...I think that’s what she said.”

“Right.” Remus replied crisply, nodding his head as his mind swirled to keep up with the information rattling around inside. “.....and you love her?” Remus’ eyes glanced up to Sirius from his fixation on his hands as he picked at the cuticle on his thumbnail, a habit of Remus’ when he was lost in thought. Although Sirius had not directly spoken those words, Remus knew the truth. He knew from the way he spoke about her, to the way he was mourning his loss that he loved her. It was a plain to see, even if Sirius tried to blind himself from the truth.

Under different circumstances, Sirius might have denied his feelings for the witch, but when faced with the harsh reality he might not see her ever again, at least not until she was a much younger version of herself, he knew he had to admit the truth. If not to her, he had to tell someone, right? “yeah...I love her.”

Remus nodded, his eyes going wide before he moved to rub his hands on his thighs as he shifted to untuck his leg from underneath his body. “Great,” he muttered under his breath before falling back on Sirius’ bed, letting the mattress springs recoil and send a small vibration through his body as he absorbed the shockwaves from the fall. “My best friend is in love with a fucking time lord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you all were expecting to know what was happening with Hermione & Tonks with this update, and don't worry we will get there, but I felt like we needed to understand just exactly how Tonks would come to find out about Hermione & Sirius' past. You'll get to see more Hermione & Tonks interaction soon, as well was the return of our favorite Ferret! Thank you all for sticking with me this far. Can't want to hear what you guys think of this chapter.
> 
> A big thank you to Montana65, who was my guest beta this week. If you are interested in helping me out by betaing the next chapter or two while my regular beta is unavailable send me a pm! ~ mm


	27. Happy Birthday, Mr.Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**July 31st, 1999 - Grimmauld Place - 17:30**

Hermione could not begin to fathom what was worse, Draco Malfoy being friends with Harry in this timeline, or Draco Malfoy being enemies with Harry in the original. From what she could tell, they both held very glaring disadvantages. Presently, the most apparent disadvantage was the blond snot lounging on the couch in the living room of Grimmauld place while a birthday party was held in Harry's honor.

From what she could tell, Harry was far more outgoing than he had been previously, as he had invited what felt like half of Wizarding Britain to come celebrate. Of course, this was an exaggeration, but by the time the doorbell rang for the twentieth time, Hermione excused herself from the living room with a wine glass in hand to find solace in the library in the back of the house.

The transition between timelines was not easy, as so much had changed it took several days for Hermione to catch up to speed on the new friendships, deaths and to relearn the basic facts about her closest confidants. She had not even begun to wrap her head around the changes within the Ministry, for that tale was woven with half-truths and interpretation. Making it hard to decipher what was real and what was politically motivated fabrication. Most interestingly, she had found a friendship with Neville she had not previously explored in her original timeline. She could not be more thankful for the young Herbology Professor as he had taken leave from Hogwarts to stay with her in the shared flat and answer the million questions she had regarding their past. Between Neville and Tonks, Hermione was able to cobble together how differently the past eight years had truly gone.

From Neville, she had learned of their time at Hogwarts, which had not changed as much as she would have liked. Their conquests from first year on still happened, but in place of Ronald was Neville. Instead of a blossoming romance between Ginny and Harry, Hermione and Harry had explored their teenage feelings and desires. And although Neville did not go into explicit detail —thankfully— it was painfully obvious that their teenage explorations of each other were not limited to the privacy of their rooms at the school.

From Tonks, she had learned that Sirius had shared her secret with Remus back in 1979, and while the werewolf was skeptical of it at first, he had accepted his friend's word. With their shared past, it came as no surprise that Sirius and Remus had both been painfully aware of who she was the moment they saw her at Kings Cross while picking Harry up after his first year. Knowing that she had successfully inserted herself into Harry's life as his best friend (again), when the opportunity arose for Remus to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position at Hogwarts, Sirius pressured Remus into accepting. Sirius would use Remus' station at the school as an excuse to visit his Godson and best friend as often as he was allowed, but additionally, he would check in on a witch he had held feelings for since 1979. A witch who was hidden beneath the exterior of a growing girl. A witch he would never get the chance to meet again because his life was cut painfully short once again.

Sirius had made it past 1996 the second time around, taking Hermione's warning to heart and avoiding the Department of Mysteries, despite the burning desire to go rescue the boy he had come to look at as a son. When that fateful day in May of 1998 came about, Sirius and Remus both ran into the chaos that was the battle, and both paid the ultimate sacrifice for their courageous intentions. Tonks had stayed home the day of the battle with Teddy and Andromeda at the insistence of both Sirius and Remus, and had regretted that decision every day since then. Waking up to an empty spot on the bed where your husband had lain is not something you heal from quickly, or ever.

Hermione let her fingers travel across the spines of the organized library books as she searched for a particular text on Time-Turners and Time Magic. She had read all of the books available in the Potter library on the subject more than once since her return but she could not help but feel like there was some mystery still left to unlock. Something she could use to her advantage to allow her to return to 1979. Bringing the wineglass to her lips she let the Elven wine dance across her tongue as it made its way to settle in her stomach, bringing a warm flush across her skin as the liquid traveled through her body. When the library's door released a groan as it was opened, Hermione let her hand drop from the books as she glanced over her shoulder to peer through the shelves so she might catch a glimpse of who had followed her into the quiet away from the party.

"Hermione, you outta stop being so predictable." The familiar voice of Tonks drifted between the book stacks a wide grin could not help but spread across Hermione's lips. "It's always books with this one, ya know?"

Before Hermione could question who her friend was talking to a reply came that instantly doused the fire that had been burning in her belly. "I am well acquainted with Granger's bibliophilia. We did go to school together, remember?" Malfoy. Fuck.

Hermione's teeth clamped down onto her bottom lip as she hesitated for half a second before moving out from the back of the shelves into the aisleway. "If I remember correctly, you spent a lot of time in the library as well, Malfoy." Brown eyes flickered away from the mismatched cousins who were lingering near the door to her wineglass as she lifted it just slightly so she might measure its contents. Judging that the amount left would be two large mouthfuls, and that amount might bring her closer to being able to deal with Malfoy's sarcasm and disparaging remarks, she lifted the glass to her lips to swallow the last of the wine she had.

Draco lifted a single brow as he watched Hermione tipped back her glass. As the stem pointed to the ceiling, small rivulets of the burgundy liquid dribbled from the corners of her mouth leaving a thin trail down to her chin. "Can you remember correctly, Granger?" he pressed "Because while I do enjoy a good book from time to time, the amount of hours I spent gracing the Hogwarts Library with my presence cannot compare to yours. Perhaps you have me confused with someone else? Your memory seems a bit hazy lately, at best." Draco's gray eyes flickered to travel down Hermione's frame, taking in the outfit she wore. A well-worn pair of jeans that had small holes worn into the corners of the pockets and knee, a rust-colored tank top and a pair of trainers. "Although perhaps, maybe it is us who has you confused with someone else. I don't ever remember you looking so sloppy before."

"Draco!" Tonks scolded as she reached out to smack the blond in the side as her brows set with a frown.

Reaching up Hermione brushed the liquid off her chin as she moved across the library. "Fuck you, Malfoy," She retorted before setting down her empty glass on the table near the entryway. He had not been incorrect in terms of her memory, as all three people in this library knew the truth. She did not know Draco's study habits in this timeline, though she could only speculate they had not changed much based on his vocabulary and the aura of arrogance that seemed to follow the blond bastard around. "What do you want?"

Draco shot an angry glance towards Tonks as he rubbed the side of his stomach before straightening back out. His hands slipped into his trousers pockets and he took two large steps away from the Metamorphmagus, to provide him some room should she attempt to swat him again. "Seems your ego is suffering from the same curse Potter's is," He muttered under his breath as his eyes rolled. "What _I want_ is to have the blond from Le Allumeur bent over Potter's guest bed, but clearly that is not happening right now, as my presence was requested in the library." Draco lifted his right hand to give a sweeping gesture in front of him that crossed the space between Hermione and Tonks.

"Merlin, you're a right tosser sometimes, Draco," Tonks interjected before Hermione could continue her row with Draco. Bubblegum pink hair changed to a violent shade of chartreuse in warning to her cousin as she shot him a nasty look out the corner of her eye. As he rolled his eyes in response and crossed his arms over his chest, Tonks glanced back to Hermione, causing her hair to return to the lovely shade of Bubblegum pink it was prior. "I asked him to come. I have an idea I wanted to discuss with you **both** **—** "

"No one asked you to think, Nymphadora." Draco murmured under his breath as he glanced over his shoulder to locate the closest chair. On spotting a faded black velvet wingback tucked against the opposite wall, Draco lifted his wand from his pocket and waved it towards the furniture. It floated silently across the room before settling to the spot on the floor close to where they stood. As he settled in the furniture his long legs crossed over one another at his knee as he unbuttoned the single clasp that held his jacket together to get more comfortable.

Tonks watched her cousin in disbelief as he settled into the armchair like he owned the place. Shaking her head, her hand went up to brush the soft fringe of pink away from her eyes. If it was not for his connection to that fucking mission and the Department of Mysteries, Tonks would not have bothered to include him on this. But they needed a man on the inside, and well, it was either Draco or Harry, and Harry had already made it abundantly clear that he did not plan on sending the curly-haired witch on any long assignments anytime soon. So asking him to help break her into the Ministry so she could go back in time was not something Tonks figured the-boy-who-lived was eager to help with.

"As I saying before this ponce interrupted," Tonks gave a small gesture of her head towards the lounging blonde who was currently tapping the fingers of his right hand on the arm of the chair, "We all have something about our pasts we would like to change. People we would like to be here with us. Remus for me... Draco, I know you miss your parents. It would be risky, considering Howell's opinions about Hermione, but if we can get the Time-Turner back to Hermione, she can make sure they're still here."

As Draco felt Tonks' eyes drift to him, he only offered a small shrug before lifting his hand to hold his chin as he looked away from the two women, not wanting to admit that what Tonks had said was true. His father was as good as dead after the Dementor's Kiss he had received after his conviction, leaving him a shell of a man who was rotting away in Azkaban. And his mother, Merlin how he had missed her. She had perished shortly after the end of the war; _An Act of Vengeance Against the Malfoy Family_ is what the Prophet headlines read. The truth was a bit darker than the papers had lead on. His mother had been murdered while en route to his father's sentencing hearing, by a witch who believed Lucius responsible for her husband's death. Narcissa had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse until she begged for death, and the widow had been more than happy to oblige the wailing witch before the authorities found them.

The idea of using the Time-Turner to go back and change his parents involvement in the war had crossed his mind more than once since he accepted the role of Head of the Department of Mysteries, but the opportunity had not presented itself to where he could use the artifact without being caught. While the prejudice against his family name was fading, he had little doubt that if caught breaking the law, he would receive the harshest punishment possible. As if pulling himself out of his thoughts, Draco shifted on the chair and he thinned his lips before turning to look up at his cousin. "So you want me to assist with sending Granger back in time once more? Don't you realize the damage that she had already caused?"

Hermione's brows narrowed at Malfoy's words. "The damage? I did what I had to do, Malfoy," she snapped as her fists clenched at her sides.

"So fucking Black was mandatory to the assignment, then?" He volleyed back, nostrils flaring as his anger bubbled beneath the surface. He had presented Hermione with the chance to fix the problems of their past, he thought her the best candidate for going back to take down Voldemort because of her sense of self-discipline and her dedication to succeeding what she started. Obviously those character traits he had come to admire after the war were thrown out the window the moment she laid eyes on Sirius Black.

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, lunging towards the blond in the armchair but she was blocked by the sidestepping of Tonks who placed herself deliberately between her cousin and friends. "You all sent me on a fucking suicide mission and I took it because somebody had to fucking try! I did what nobody else wanted to bloody do, and I've lost more than you can possibly imagine in that process. What I did and whom I did it with is none of your bloody business, you pompous arsehole." Hermione's eyes narrowed on Draco as he rose out of the chair, edging closer to her. The top of her head barely reached his chin, but given the opportunity, Hermione would not have hesitated to go toe to toe with her childhood adversary. The events that changed him into a close confidante of Harry's were not part of her past, and with the rest of her life having gone to shit, what else did she have to lose?

Tonks lifted her open palms up slightly as she looked between the two exasperatedly. "Helga Hufflepuff's left tit! Seriously, you two?! Both of you need to calm the bloody hell down!" Snapping her fingers, she pointed to the chair as she held eye contact with Draco. Once he had complied with her unspoken request to sit the fuck down, Tonks turned to look at Hermione who stood with her arms crossed over her bust and jaw set. Moving quickly, Tonks' hand hooked around Hermione's biceps and she tugged the girl away from nook they had been standing in. Once out of eyeshot of her cousin, she released her hold on Hermione's arm. "Look, he's a right pain in the arse, but we need him. If you want to see Sirius again, we need him." Tonks' hair and eyes seemed to shift in unison, fading from the bubbly colors to a cloudy blue-gray as the grief she had felt for so long wove its tendrils into her words. "Hermione, this is our chance. If we can get Draco to help us, we can send you back. You can finish what you started…you can make sure Teddy has his father. You can make sure Sirius is here when you get back! I'll make sure he stays out of trouble until you come back...I swear it."

Hermione looked away from the pleading Tonks, her teeth gnawing on the bottom of corner of her lip as she stared at the shelf of books in the 'D' section she had gone through weeks prior. Of course she would help Tonks, even without her pleas to reunite the Lupin family, she would have done so, but the idea of working with Draco turned her stomach riotously. "Fine, but I will hex him if he doesn't play nice," Hermione whispered in return, glancing over to the ferret who sat examining the cuff on his suit jacket. How could one man be so like a peacock? Did he have to actively work to obtain the level of arrogance he exuded? As he began to pick the lint from the breast of his jacket, she looked back up at Tonks. "I'm going to be honest, I might hex him regardless."

Tonks could not help but let out a throaty laugh at Hermione's admission, and she nodded. Hell, they had all thought that about the brat more than once, hadn't they? "Just make sure to do it after we've made it into the Department of Mysteries, kay?"

* * *

**July 31st, 1999 - Grimmauld Place - 23:00**

Once a truce between Draco and Hermione had been achieved, the rest of the plans fell into place. Draco had reluctantly agreed to borrow the Time-Turner from the Department of Mysteries and meet Hermione outside Salisbury, as bringing Hermione into the Department of Mysteries would be rather impossible with the wards Minister Howell had placed to guard Hermione from entering the Time Room's chambers. The decision to keep Harry unaware of the plan to send Hermione back in time once again was something both Draco and Hermione insisted upon, surprisingly. Neither wanted the-boy-wh0-lived to become aware of their plans to defy the Ministry because Hermione knew he would try to stop her, while Draco knew he would be livid at his participation in the scheme. Tonks held a sense of indifference, but mainly because she had Teddy to hide behind if Harry did find out.

Draco's motives for agreeing to help were unknown to Hermione, but the cousins seemed to share an unspoken agreement not to push the issue with one another, for any time Hermione would question his loyalty to the Ministry and how what they were going could land them all in Azkaban, Tonks quickly change the subject away from Hermione's inquisition and tell her not to worry about it.

If everything went according to plan, Hermione would be back in 1979 in a little over one months time, as they had to wait until Minister Howell's annual tour to foreign Ministries to sneak Hermione back into the Department of Mysteries.

If everything went according to plan, Hermione would be back in 1979 in a little over one month's time. They had to wait for Minister Howell's annual tour of foreign Ministries before they could sneak the Time-Turner away, as when she was out of office, security measures always seemed a bit more relaxed than when the lavender-haired dictator stalked the halls. The knowledge that Hermione would have to wait another four weeks to go back to finish the mission caused her stomach to twist into anxious knots, but not because it felt like eons away. No, it was because she had so much to do to prepare for the final time she would use the Time-Turner. She had not disclosed to Tonks or Malfoy the length of time she wished to return for; she knew neither would agree to it. No one had ever gone back for that length in one stretch, and the complications that could arise were well unknown. Although if she had to guess, based on her experiences using the Time-Turner, the only adverse effects that would come would be the changes made while in the past. While plans were made, she had agreed to another month's return, but internally she knew much more time would be needed than that.

Hermione moved silently through the livingroom, her wand in one hand and a trash bag in the other as she cast silent levitation charms on various plates and napkins that were littering the coffee table and side tables. By the time the plans between Tonks and Malfoy had been finalized, the party had nearly disappeared. Neville had been passed out in a soft armchair in the living room with a lampshade over his head, something she was almost positive he did not place there himself. After escorting Tonks and The Ferret to the door, she got to work moving Neville up into his bedroom before she came down to get a start on the mess. Under normal conditions, she would not bother cleaning so late into the evening, but the plans of treason she had just hatched left her feeling a bit restless.

Lost in thoughts of how much time she would realistically need to finish the mission, Hermione did not notice the footsteps and voices echoing down the hallway until Harry and his guest were standing in the foyer to Grimmauld Place just on the other side of the wall.

"That was a great party, Harry," came a feminine voice Hermione could not place. "Although I have to admit, I didn't get to see much of it towards the end."

"Are you complaining? It didn't seem like you regretted the choice earlier," Harry flirted.

"Oh no. I didn't mind at all…I hope you enjoyed your present."

"I did. My favorite part was taking it off of you though."

When a small feminine giggle could be heard, Hermione could not help but roll her eyes. Harry from this timeline was so similar to her own Harry in his demeanor and personality, but the differences that were there were so vast from the other Harry that it made it hard to ignore how much of her world had changed since her return. When she heard the front door open, and the sound of what she assumed was him smacking the girl on the arse, Hermione flicked her wand a tad bit harder than she wanted in her rush to finish levitating a collection of wine glasses to the sink. As the glasses sped into the kitchen, she heard them crash (and break) into the porcelain and Hermione winced, knowing that in her haste to hurry through the remaining bits of clean up she likely gave away her location.

"Floo me later?" came the feminine voice which had faded a bit further away than before.

"Of course, baby. Fly safe."

And with a soft shut of the door, Hermione let out a small laugh, unable to help herself any longer. Pointing her wand to a small collection of paper plates that had accumulated on the ottoman, she began to levitate them to the open trash bag in her hand.

"You know, 'Mione. It's not polite to eavesdrop." The birthday boy had slowly made his way from the foyer to the entrance of the living room, leaning against the archway as he lifted a thin brow to the curly-haired witch he had known for years.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to smirk at Harry, and as she caught sight of his lack of attire, she looked away quickly. "It is also not polite to walk around the house nearly nude when you still have company over," she reminded her friend before tucking her wand into the back pocket of her jeans and tying the trash bag closed. "Besides, it's not eavesdropping when your conversation is loud enough for the whole house to hear…baby."

At her quip Harry could not help but laugh, his hand going up to push his shoulder-length black hair back from his eyes. Harry donned a pair of jeans that had seen better days. The dark blue Muggle denim was tattered and well worn, sporting a large hole in each leg at the knee. And while the garment was inoffensive in nature, when paired with nothing else, not even a pair of boxer shorts, well—it made it hard to keep her eyes from straying across the golden expanse of his chest and abdomen.

To say Harry was fit would have only begun to cover the truth of the man who had clearly spent all of his time training to track down nefarious wizards. He was not bulky like Victor or Cormac, but not as slender as his Godfather. No, Harry's body was well defined and the small valleys and peaks of his sinewy muscles would have left most witches, (or wizards) salivating. That said, Hermione was far from being like most witches. Instead, she had noted his bulkier appearance the same way one would a sibling, She was well aware but did _not_ want to see him unclothed to the point where she could spot the thin trail of inky black hair that ran from his navel to beneath his waistline.

"You never used to complain about my state of undress," Harry teased before pushing off the wall, and he advanced into the room until he moved beside her. His hands wrapped around hers before taking the trash bag from her hands. "Don't. I have a service coming tomorrow to clean up. You should be asleep anyway; it's nearly midnight."

Hermione glanced up to Harry and cocked her head to the right as she thinned her lips in an attempt to suppress her cheeky grin. "You should be asleep too, Mr. Potter. Not escorting nice young witches out of your flat." When Harry reached out to poke Hermione in the ribs in a playful tickle, she let out a small yelp and swatted at his arm.

"I'll have you know, Miss. Granger, that I had her leave so you might not have an awkward encounter with her over tea in the morning," he explained as he wagged his finger and backed away from her. When his legs hit the back of the couch Harry allowed himself to flop back with a casual grace that could not help but remind her of the way he would lounge about in the common room at Hogwarts, like he owned the entire world and nothing could get in his way, even with someone like Voldemort trying to kill him. "Besides, Drusilla is far from a nice witch. I have scratch marks to prove that."

Hermione dropped her mouth open in playful shock before grabbing a television remote from the side table and lobbing it in his direction. "Harry James Potter. I might be your best friend, but I do not want to hear about your latest conquests in the bedroom. You're like"— Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of Harry in the bedroom with any witch, Ginny included "-my brother." When Harry laughed at her response and patted the seat cushion next to him to join him on the couch Hermione rolled her eyes before obliging. Moving across the dirty living room, she sat down on the opposite end of the couch from him and she deposited her feet in his lap.

"Wow. Muggles sure to raise their kids differently than I remember," Harry commented as he dropped his hands to wrap around Hermione's feet, pressing the pads of his thumbs into the arch of her foot, which earned him an appreciative flex of her toes.. "I don't even think I ever heard about siblings shagging before." Using the element of surprise, he playfully tickled the bottoms of her feet until her flailing earned him a switch kick in the ribs.

"You know exactly what I meant, Harry." Shaking her head, she withdrew her feet from his lap to tuck her toes underneath his thigh, her legs bending at the knee just slightly. As she reclined back on the arm of the couch, she could not help but smile at her oldest friend. Even with the change to a more brash Harry, the platonic love she held for the scruffy haired boy was still there. She was not sure it would ever go away, even if time did separate them further. To go through the things they had as adolescents and teens, to fight for your life beside someone, well, that created a bond to strong that even time could not change it.

Harry returned her grin before tipping his head back on the couch, eyes cast to the ceiling as a heavy sigh released from his lips. It wasn't a sigh of discontent, nor irritation. Instead, it held the warmth of laughter, joy and even affection. It was almost as if he was savoring the stolen moment with her while the house was quiet and the world stood still. His hands rose, clasping on the back of his neck as he slouched back further into the couch, pushing his hair over the back of the couch. "I know I've said it before, but I'm glad you're here 'Mione. I missed you when you were gone."

Her heart could not help but stutter at his words. She knew that her return would hurt him- how could it not after what they had shared in this timeline? But the possibility of giving him so much more than he already had was more than enough to sway her to sway her. If she went back she could give him parents to raise him instead of uncles. She could give Teddy two whole, happy and loving parents. She could give Malfoy a chance at not becoming an entirely pompous arse (this one might be a stretch though), and last, but certainly not least, she could give herself a chance to explore her feelings for Sirius. It is easy to look back on something and realize what you had, and she knew now more than ever that she had loved him. With all of her heart, soul, and self she loved Sirius Black and the opportunity to whisk herself away to 1979 to return to his arms was not something she was willing to give up, especially since her return could benefit far more than just herself. Her return would reshape Wizarding History as they all knew it.

"I missed you too, Harry." Reaching out, her hand went up and her fingertips brushed against his elbow to get his attention away from the ceiling. "Not a day went by that I did not think about you, or R—Neville." She stumbled over her words for a moment, mentally kicking herself for the error.

Harry flashed a small grin at Hermione as he tilted his head to the side, resting his head so his ear was flat against the cushion on the back of the couch. "But not intimately?" he teased.

"Not intimately," she agreed, shaking her head slightly before she too snuggled down into the comfort of the overstuffed couch that had been in this living room for far longer than they had graced Grimmauld Place with their presences.

"I know this isn't easy. Being cooped up in my flat with Neville and me, but I want you to know that you can stay as long as you'd like. It feels like old times, ya know? Back in Gryffindor Tower."

"Except this time, with less vassals bound to a castle in Scotland." Hermione dropped her eyes from his to look at her jeans where her fingers picked the fuzz away from a small hole on her thigh restlessly.

Harry chuckled at her jab. "Less house elves. At least less of the kind that are helpful. Kreacher is still milling about here somewhere nicking things from the bedrooms. So be careful," he warned.

Hermione chuffed at his warning. At least if the elf had to serve a family, he was saddled with Harry and Neville. The elf had seen and done horrible things within his lifetime; it was only right that he was allowed the freedom to come and go as he pleased, even if that meant your jewelry had to be locked up for safe keeping. "It's not like they'll let me go back to my flat anytime soon. But when they do, I'll get out of your hair."

"I know, but there is no rush. I don't want you to think you're a burden." Reaching out Harry placed his hand over Hermione's smaller ones and when their eyes connected he gave her a warm smile that caused her to return one of her own. "I'm glad you're home."

"Thanks, Harry."

Giving her hands a small squeeze the wizard took a deep breath before scooting towards the edge of the seat cushion. "Alright. Now that I've bared my soul to you," he teased, "I am going to head to bed. They're expecting me in Glasgow tomorrow. A Dragon Egg Smuggler is supposed to be making a drop-off and we need to make sure we get the bastard this time." As he rose from the couch his hand went to his mouth to cover a yawn.

"Oh wait!" Hermione interrupted Harry's retreat from the room, pushing herself up off the couch. "Just a second. Don't go anywhere!" Bare feet carried her from the room towards the kitchen as a confused Harry stood leaning against the wall beside the archway to the stairs, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he fought the sleep away by blinking a little more than needed.

When the door to the kitchen swung open, the moment Hermione's toes touched the carpet the lights in the room dimmed to provide a shroud of darkness. In her outstretched palms sat a single pink cupcake with a green candle placed directly in the center. The soft glow from the flame illuminated Hermione's face in the darkened room, so all Harry could see was the too wide smile of his friend as she sang him the Muggle version of Happy Birthday.

Hermione crossed the room to her friend, palms outstretched toward him. "—Happy Birthday, Dear Harry. Happy Birthday to you." They stood like that for more than a second, their eyes twinkling over the flickering flame that separated their bodies. And as the green wax began to melt across the soft pink frosting, Hermione moved her hands a little closer to his face. "Make a wish, Harry."

He broke their gaze to look at the small cupcake that had been squirreled away in the back of his fridge and pursing his lips together he blew softly on the flame to extinguish it. Since their fateful meeting on the Hogwarts Express years ago, Hermione had never once forgotten about Harry. She had sent him letters every holiday, mailed him presents, and when they both got older, her summer holidays at Grimmauld Place always began on July 31st, making sure not to miss a celebration. Hermione had always been there since he was eleven years old, burrowing her way into his heart and cementing her place in his life ever since.

As the beautiful gray smoke rose off the extinguished candle, Hermione leaned over, careful not to brush the cupcake against Harry's shoulder, and placed a soft kiss against his bearded cheek. "Happy Birthday, Harry." Before she could pull back from the platonic gesture, she felt Harry's arms encircle her small frame and he pulled her in for a tight hug. The last time he had hugged her, she had hesitated, for she was unsure of this new Harry who was far more affectionate than he had been previously. This time, her arms returned the warm embraced. Her nose brushed against his long silken hair as she tucked her face against his. "I love you, Harry. I'd do anything for you. You know that, right?" Her fingers played with the tips of his long hair, letting the inky locks slide between her fingers before she pulled back from the embrace to look up at him.

Harry reached out and carefully took the cupcake from her hand, bringing the pink confection up for a small bite of frosting before he nodded. "I know. I love you too, 'Mione. I'd do anything for you too." He leaned down to return a soft kiss on her cheek before beginning to back out of the room. "Don't stay up too late, okay?" he requested as he began to take the stairs two at a time towards the second landing.

"I'll try not too," she called after him, smiling as a faint 'Goodnight 'Mione!' floated down towards her. Once more Hermione was alone in the messy living room. Walking in the same direction Harry had made his escape, Hermione reached out to turn off the lights for the room, but as her hand reached the switch, a small cluster of photographs that sat on the wall caught her attention. In particular, a photograph that lay surrounded by images of Harry's loved ones.

Since her return, the images of her shared past with Harry and Neville had held her attention, for the told her far more stories than either man could remember. The revealed moments of her new past that were lost from the storyteller's minds, long forgotten to more exciting tales of youth. The same stories, that when retold, would tingle the back of her mind with their familiarity. It was as if she could almost remember them as it was retold; as if looking through a pensive to take back her faded past.

The photo that had caught her attention more than once was a simple black and white image of Lily and James; the pair stood dancing in the snowfall outside their home in Godric's Hollow, without a care in the world. She had seen this photo within her original timeline,, but never before had it stuck with her like it did now. Reaching out, her fingertips brushed against the dusty glass, leaving a small trail where her fingers had been. She had known them. She had known the wonderful, caring and loyal people that Lily and James Potter had been.

She knew the amazing couple that had been taken from this world far too soon. They were her friends, just like Harry and Ron. Just like Neville and Ginny. Too much had already been lost to the war; too many people would not grow to see their children reach adulthood. Hell, too many people had been stolen by the cruel reality that meddling with time could go very wrong. When she had accepted the assignment originally, she undertook it despite the risks because she wanted to right the wrongs that should have never occurred. She had wanted to give Harry his parents. But now that she had gone back and had personally encountered those lives that had been lost the first time around, she knew she had to do it for a different reason. She had to go back to save people, innocent muggles and magical persons alike. She had to go back to see Sirius once more, to admit that she loved him. To figure out a way through this mess so he might be here waiting for her when she returned. But most importantly, she had to go back to give Lily and James a chance to raise their boy. To give the Potter family a fighting chance against a force so evil it took nearly twenty eight years, two wars, and one ultimate sacrifice to finally defeat the first time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is ready to go back in time again?! *raised hand* 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me this far. I am beyond humbled by the reviews and words of encouragement, they breath life into my little black heart. Let me know what you think of this chapter and her plans! 
> 
> Big thank you to Montana65 & Travelilah who guest Beta'd this week for me. Huge love for KnitKnitRead who helps encourage my plot bunnies to reproduce at neck breaking speeds.


	28. Nymphadora Tonks, The Sadist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**August 30th, 1999 - Grimmauld Place - 12:00**

"We're about to take off, Harry. I'll be back first thing in the morning," Tonks called from the bottom of the stairs. She had showed up unannounced around ten that morning to let Hermione know Draco had secured the Time-Turner and would meet the pair outside Puddlemere around lunch time, as to not draw suspicion by his departure from the office mid-day. The news was not unwelcomed, nor unexpected as Minister Howell had been out of the country for a little over a week now, but it felt rushed. She had a little under two hours to gather her things and come to terms with the fact she would not come back to this timeline ever again. The people she had come to know over the past two months could potentially be incredibly different upon her return, and while she hoped to provide them a better life, it caused her chest to tighten with anxiety at the thought.

Hermione had placed an Undetectable Extension Charm on a small canvas backpack that she had found stuffed in the back of the hall closet, as her messenger bag had not been returned from Ministry yet. In fact, nearly all of the belongings she had taken back in time with her were still in Ministry possession and she had a funny feeling that if she had decided to stay in this timeline, she would never see the articles they had collected ever again. She had packed her toiletries, several texts and hand-written journals on the first wizarding war she believed might come in handy, and half of the clothing she had acquired since taking up residence in Grimmauld Place. She took her time to fold them neatly as she mentally prepared herself for the journey she was about to take, much to the chagrin of Tonks who would have much preferred she just dump everything in the backpack to sort out later.

It had been nearly sixty days since she left 1979, and while she was sure there would be no changes as drastic as it had been whens she arrived back in 1999, she could not help but feel butterflies in her stomach at the thought of seeing Sirius once again. Would be be angry again? Would he have moved on? Fifty-five days was a long time when war was occuring, and she could not blame him if he had moved on to find comfort in the arms of someone else. Especially since neither knew of when she could return when she had left. Hell, he could have returned to grace Remus' bed and although heartbroken, Hermione would happily bow out for Remus to have a chance to blossom his romance with Sirius. No matter how short-lived it might be, because it was clear that the Tonks and Remus' relationship was one that defied all timelines and rules. Werewolf bonds were clearly an area of magic that remained untouched by chance, and as fascinating as it was, she would have to shelve that tidbit of knowledge to come back to once her mission was complete.

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she adjusted her denim jacket, pulling her hair from underneath the collar before hoisting the canvas backpack on her back. Hermione had felt only slightly bad about lying to Harry; the witches had used the excuse of Tonks needing a babysitter for the evening so she could attend a Werewolf Rights Activism meeting. They both knew that if he was aware of their plans he would do whatever necessary to prevent her from leaving again. And this was without him having knowledge of her relationship with his deceased Godfather. She could only imagine the feelings that would drudge up once she did come back to 1999 again. "What are you going to tell him?" Hermione whispered as she tucked her wand into the inside pocket of her jacket. "He is obviously going to notice something is amiss when I am not here with you in the morning."

Tonks was leaning against the bannister, absentmindedly braiding a lock of bubblegum pink hair. At Hermione's question, the young mother looked up and flashed her friend a charming smile before shrugging. "Haven't figured that one out yet, but I do know that when I come to break the news I plan in bringing Teddy over. Harry can't stay mad long when he's being cooed at by an adorable toddler." Tucking the braided strand behind her ear she pushed off the bannister and moved towards Hermione, linking arms with the young witch as she began to guide them from Grimmauld Place with a carefree aura about her. Tonks had never been one to sweat the details; as an Auror it would drive Moody mad, the spontaneity of her methods of completing assignments. She had never been a planner, even while attending school. Her mother called it a controlled chaos, while Tonks just called it living.

At reaching the front door, Hermione hesitated a moment. Booted feet ceased their escape as she looked over her shoulder down the narrow hallway behind her. She felt Tonks tug lightly on her arm, and although she was not facing the Metamorphmagus, she was positive that Tonks was eyeing her quizzically. "Harry?" Hermione called out, glancing over her shoulder to mouth 'one minute' to the impatient witch who lifted a single brow towards her.

"Yeah?" Harry's reply echoed down the hallway towards her, warming her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She had never gone long without seeing him since they were eleven. He had been there for her every single time trouble arose. He had risked life and limb to save her when she had been petrified during their second year. He had fought Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries after the Death Eater sent the curse that marred her side during their fifth year. He helped mend her broken heart when Ron found himself under Lavender's spell during their sixth year. Harry was the first person she had told about Obliviating her parents, and when she broke down as the weight of her actions became too much to bare, he held her and dried her tears. He had been her constant for eight years. Harry was her family, the only bit of family she had left in both timelines, and as much as she knew she was going back in time for the right reasons, the decision was not easy. Selfishly she wished she could take him, because although she had faced Voldemort before, she had never done it without her best friend at her side.

Hermione's tongue darted out to wet her lips before she took a heavy breath. "I love you. I'll see you soon, okay?" she called out and although it was not entirely a lie, she felt the string of sadness with the truth behind it. She had already lost Ron, and Ginny, and the painful reality was that the possibility of losing Harry was very real when she made it back to 1979. The difference was this time, she was bound and determined to do everything to make sure Lily and James survived. There would be no more delays. No more romantic getaways to London. When she went back to 1979, she was going to find Sirius, tell him she loved him and explain to him that if he felt even an ounce the same as she did about him, he would do everything in his ability to help make sure her assignment was successful so that they could give them a shot in the future.

"Love you too, 'Mione. Now unless you have something important to tell me, I am going to get some rest." The grumpy wizard shouted from the second story landing before his bedroom door shut with a loud thud, not longer wanting to continue their conversation from across the house when important things (like sleep) were awaiting him after a long night on duty.

Hermione let out a soft breathy laugh before she turned to face Tonks who was leaning against the wall by the front door that was being held ajar by her foot. "I had to say bye," she offered her explanation with a small shrug before allowing the witch to pull her from the entryway and through the open front door.

The heavy door swung closed behind the pair with a soft snap, the house's magic moving to prevent the outside from coming in by assisting with the close. Tonks guided Hermione to the second step by linking their arms once more, large blue eyes shimmering in the afternoon sunlight as she watched the Muggles walk by on the sidewalk in front of the house completely unaware of its existence. "You ready, Hermione?" she questioned before looking over to her friend on her arm. "Ya know….to go back and see them…..finish your assassination attempt, the whole bit."

Hermione reached up to hook her free hand onto the strap of her backpack on her shoulder as she snorted at Tonks' question. "First off, it's not an assassination. I'm not a ninja, which I feel like I should inform you are not real. I'm an Auror. It is an assignment, not a murder," she pointed out. As humorous as the imagery might be, Hermione was far from the stealth operative Tonks might have imagined her to be. She wasn't chosen because of her athletics and ability to hide in plain sight. She was chosen because they needed someone to get the job done, no matter how messy. When she heard Tonks cluck her tongue in obvious disagreement to her correction she glanced up to her friend. "Secondly, have you ever used a Time-Turner before Tonks?" Hermione questioned.

"Blimey, no. Those things are fucking dangerous," Tonks responded instantly, the tips of her Bubblegum pink hair turning an electric violet as she wrinkled her nose at the thought. "You gotta be a bit of a loon to use one. No offense, Hermione."

Hermione snorted as she shook her head at Tonks' bluntness. "No, you are quite right. They're incredibly dangerous," Leave it to Tonks to do little to ease the burning fears she had regarding travel through time. No matter how many times she had used the device, the moments leading up to her departure still caused her to rack her brain with the possibilities of what could go wrong. "I don't think you could ever be prepare yourself enough to travel twenty years in the past, Tonks."

"Fair enough," Tonks nodded her head in agreement and glanced down at Hermione out of the corner of her eyes. "But….you'll be able to shag your boyfriend again. So it can't be all that bad. From what Remus said Sirius was an absolutely beast in the sack-"

"Tonks!" Hermione exclaimed as she averted her gaze from the witch. This was not the first time the witch had tried to pry information about her love life with Sirius from her, and as comfortable as she was with being in a pseudo-relationship with Sirius, she was not sure she would ever be the type of person who was one hundred percent okay discussing the specifics about her sex life. Especially with someone whose lips were loose, like Nymphadora Tonks.

"I'm secure enough in my relationship to know I was the best lay Remus ever had. I mean, hello, Metamorphmagus. I got tricks up my sleeve…. Or is it down my trousers?" Tonks mused, reaching up to tap her index finger on her chin.

"Oh, Merlin. Tonks, please stop-"

"-So, does he have a big cock, or what? Remus would never tell me the size. It's not like I'm eager to check, as Sirius is my cousin. But if you don't tell me, and go back and fix this mess we are in, I will. The information is purely scientific in nature, of course. I'm a bit curious to see how much Remus can accommodate. You see, we were just getting into toy play when-."

"Are you Side-Alonging or am I?!" Hermione's curls whipped against her cheek as she snapped her head in her friend's direction as a deep crimson blush began to fan from the apples of her cheeks down her neck. The longer their friendship had blossomed, the more Hermione wondered if the witch enjoyed the type of embarrassment she impressed upon those in her life. It was the only logical explanation she could attain. Tonks was clearly a sadist. Yep, that had to be it. Hermione lifted her brows as a hopeful grin spread across her lips, praying she would take the bait and change the subject.

"Alright, alright. Fine. No need to get your knickers in a twist," Tonks huffed at Hermione before turning to look straight ahead once more as to prepare for their Side-Along. "Although, from what Harry and Sirius both mentioned, you usually don't wear them. Can't say I blame you, they're bothersome. Not a fan myself." Tonks tightened their interlocked arms until she had tugged Hermione so close their sides touched.

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to respond to her forthcoming friend, the familiar pull from behind her navel began. The soft rushing sound of the world passing them by at a breakneck speed drowned out the muffled voices and noises from the busy street out front of Grimmauld Place. Seconds later the pair abruptly halted their travel, and the ambient sound of Puddlemere replaced the sounds of London: the faint songs of crickets hiding in trees, the babbling brook that lay just behind the small village in the thicket and the earthy scent of wych elm that filled the air. The buildings had aged since she had last laid eyes on the community. In its present state Puddlemere held so much darkness it seemed to cast a permanent shadow over the last remaining inhabitants, but she had been here when each home was filled with young families and the shops that lined the main road were filled with storekeeps and patrons. When the sound of children reverberated off the cottages could be heard in addition to the forest. When laughter replaced the silence. She knew what this village meant to people before the war, and she knew she was only moments away from returning to see it in its former glory.

Unlooping her arm from Tonks, Hermione adjusted her backpack that had come askew on her back during the Apparition. Brown eyes surveyed the nearly abandoned village that lay several meters down the dirt road they had landed on. She knew that just behind the row of cottages to her left was the street that Remus and Sirius' flat had been on. The townhomes lined both sides of the road in neat little rows. Starter homes for many young couples during the early eighties, and in the case of Remus and Sirius, the first place either man ever truly felt like they belonged. Hermione could hear Tonks behind her move across the road, in what Hermione assumed was search for the blonde snot they were meeting.

"You ought to get ready. He should be here any second." Tonks had withdrawn a old wristwatch from her pocket to check the time. The brown leather band was deteriorating and the surface of the glass held a large angular crack across it. It was in desperate need of repair from the looks of of it, but it was something Tonks would never bring herself to fix. It had been Remus' since he was a young man, and while the watch would eventually pass down to Teddy, she could not bring herself to part with it yet. Not while she had so little to remember him by, to cherish his memory with. Remus had not been a man of many earthly possessions. He had gone through so much hardship by the time they had become acquainted and what few things she was able to save since his passing, she had kept close. His brown corduroy sportcoat with the worn elbow patches, a set of robes with tattered hems, the wristwatch and a soft gray button down jumper. They were all treasures she kept for herself. Although, if this went according to plan Tonks would no longer have to bury her face into his clothing in hopes of smelling the familiar scent of her husband, for his pillow had long lost the scent that was uniquely Remus. Stuffing it back into her pants pocket she let her hand linger for a moment, her thumb stroking softly against the watch's face.

Hermione tapped her jacket pocket, verifying her wand was safe inside before she slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Get ready? How does one prepare exactly? Hermione smirked to herself at the idea of trying to prepare for a twenty year time jump before she glanced over her shoulder to Tonks. "You'll keep them safe, right?" Hermione questioned, the toe of her boot nudging against a rock on the ground absentmindedly before she looked back ahead of her to the fading village. "You said you would at Harry's party. And… well time is funny, but you'll try right? Even if you don't remember this-"

"I don't need to remember this for me to want to keep them safe, Hermione," Tonks interrupted her quickly. The corners her mouth lowered to a somber expression. "Not a day goes by that I do not regret not going to Hogwarts that night."

Hermione turned on the road to face her friend, a small frown tugging at her mouth. "Tonks, no." She watched as Tonks' hair began to soften its hue of pink, graying as the Metamorphmagus struggled under the weight of the guilt obviously felt over losing her husband and his best friend. "There was nothing you could have done. You know that, right? If you had gone Teddy might not have any parents now."

"If I had gone, Remus might also be alive," Tonks had yet to turn her gaze to Hermione, instead looking off in the distance into the thicket of wych elm. If she looked at Hermione, Tonks was afraid the witch might see just how deeply Remus' death affected her. It was one thing to lose your husband, but another to lose your soulmate. If it weren't for Teddy, Tonks was not sure she could live to face the sunrise each morning without Remus by her side. It had taken her weeks to get to the point of getting out of bed without tears, and months to hide behind the mask of life being normal, but deep down, locked away with her heart was the sad truth that if Hermione was not successful, she might never heal from the loss.

"Look, I get it. Time is unpredictable and we would never know for certain how the Battle would have ended had I showed up-" Tonks began, shaking her head to fight back the tears that had begun to sparkle in the corners of her blue eyes. "- but I do know this. We have to try, right? You're our only shot at fixing this mess...at giving me my husband back." As two large tears broke free from the corner of her right eye her hand shot up quickly to brush them away from her cheek. Hoping Hermione would not notice, or make mention of them. "I'll keep them out of trouble, Hermione. Just bring them back and I swear to you, I'll make sure they're both here when you come back, yeah?" At her question, Tonks finally turned to look at Hermione, her big blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she forced the feelings of loss and heartache back into the little box inside her chest that she had fought so fiercely to conceal since Remus and Sirius funeral.

"Of course," Hermione nodded as she reached out to touch her friend's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll bring them back."

The sound of Apparition crackled across the sky, interrupting their promises to one another. As both women turned towards the noise, the image of a well-dressed Draco Malfoy appeared through a small cloud of dust that rose at his sudden appearance. Brushing off his sport coat as he moved towards them, Draco sneered. "Salazar, Granger. Couldn't you have chosen a better place to leave from. I know you were trying to find a location far from the Ministry's watch, but a dirt road in the middle of the county? How utterly barbaric." Looking up from his attempts to wipe the dirt from his clothing, gray eyes glanced between the women curiously. If he had noticed the telltale wetness to his cousin's cheeks and eyes, Draco was making no mention of it.

"Well, I thought of using Malfoy Manor, but I figured your house was still being watched." Hermione quipped back without hesitation and when Tonks' elbow connected to her ribs in a quick jab she winced, reaching up to rub the aching spot. Huffing out a quick breath through her nostril, Hermione took the nudge she had received from Tonks as a warning to play nice. "Did you bring it, or what?" Hermione just needed to make this interaction long enough to get the Time-Turner, so instead of exchanging further pleasantries why not cut to the chase.

Draco rolled his eyes at her question before fishing his hand into the pocket of his sport coat and he withdrew the silver artifact by the chain. "I would not have written Dora to arrange this if I was unsuccessful in collecting the Time-Turner, Granger," the sarcastic drawl dripped through the air as he extended his arm towards Hermione so she could take the Time-Turner from his grasp.

"I always knew you were good for something, Draco. Never believed what Mum used to say about you," Tonks mentioned excitedly as she watched the afternoon rays reflect on the polished metal.

Hermione took the Time-Turner from Draco's outstretched hand quickly, and carefully looped the chain over her neck. Although the necklace only weighed a mere couple ounces, she could not help but feel the weight of the world upon her shoulders as she stood there with the pendant in her fingertips. This was it. She was going back. She was going to make this world right. She was going to see Sirius again and stop Voldemort.

"What your Mum said about me? Dora, you do realize that-"

"Oh shut it, Malfoy." Hermione's voice cut through Draco's retort to his cousin like a knife. Looking up from the Time-Turner, the corners of her mouth lifted as she eyed Tonks and Draco before her. If you would have asked her months ago if the mismatched set of cousins would be banding together to return her to the past, she would have laughed in your face. But Tonks was right. Time was unpredictable. There was a reason she was given this opportunity again, and Hermione was not about to let it slip through her fingertips. "Malfoy...thank you for your help. Even if you are a pain in the arse."

Draco lifted a single manicured brow at her back-handed compliment before offering a silent shrug, as if to say she was not incorrect. "Just don't fuck up this time, Granger. I'd rather not lose my job because you couldn't keep your legs closed long enough to do your job." If she had been expecting pleasantries and well wishes the witch was sorely mistaken. Draco was risking far more than the Golden Girl by lifting this Time-Turner from the Department of Mysteries, and if she let him down a second time, he was not sure he would ever be able to forgive her. Especially if it meant he was rotting in a cell beside his father.

"Gods, has anyone ever told you what a twat you are, Draco?" Tonks shouldered her cousin as she eyed him in disbelief. She knew they were adversaries, but he couldn't say a single nice thing to Hermione before she went back to risk her life for them?! Of course he couldn't. Malfoys did not speak unless their words were lined heavily with sarcasm and wit. Truthfully, had he said some sweet parting words, Tonks might fallen over in pure shock. Tonks turned to her friend as she lifted her hand to move her Bubblegum pink fringe from her eyes. "Ignore him. Go back, fuck our cousin and kill that evil wanker. You can enjoy yourself and get shit done, you're a multi-dimensional witch." She winked at Hermione before taking a step back from the witch after wrapping her up in a brief hug. "Give that husband of mine a kiss for me when you see him. A good swat on his arse too."

Hermione took pause before responding, unsure if she should remind Tonks that when she returned to 1979, Remus was the farthest thing from fond of her. Furthermore, should she kiss him and smack his arse, she was positive she would find herself hexed. "You know what. Sure. Why not," Hermione replied, letting out a half laugh at the idea. It wasn't like Tonks would ever find out of she did or did not fulfill her request, right?

Well, it was now or never

Hermione let her eyes shift between Tonks and Malfoy who were eyeing her expectantly and she glanced down to the Time-Turner in her trembling hands. It was now or never and she was not going to go with the latter. Hermione took a deep breath, her fingers trailing across the outer ring to feel the delicate engraving in the precious metal before she began to spin the circles of metal that surrounded the hourglass.

She had done the calculations within her head several times already, her math was perfect, but it still caused her skin to tingle with a nervous energy. "Tonks," Lifting her eyes away from the pendant, her fingers kept working, spinning the outermost circle around several times over what a trip of one month would take. "Remember that question you asked before we Side-Alonged?" She needed to distract them, she needed to make sure they did not notice how many times she spun the bands.

"Yeah?" The Metamorphmagus responded, her brows lifting in curiosity as her blue eyes flicked up from Hermione's hands to lock onto her face, a slow grin beginning to spread across her lips.

"Granger, you need to stop. You're going back for too long," Draco interrupted the witches, his voice dripping with worry as he watched Hermione's fingers manipulate the Time-Turner. His hand twitching as he debated internally if he should reach out to stop her. If he grabbed her, he might get sucked into the pull of the Time-Travel, but if he didn't by his estimations she could be gone for well over a month already and from what he could tell she was making no attempts at stopping the outermost circle from orbiting around the hourglass. Which meant she was planning on staying back for longer than Dora and he expected. Much longer.

A slow devious grin spread across Hermione's face as her eyes flickered away from Malfoy to Tonks. She needed to time this just right. She needed Tonks to pull attention away from her. As she finished the last rotation of the outer band, she rested her thumb against the hourglass, preparing to for the final push. "He's fucking huge." Hermione watched as Tonks howled with righteous laughter, grasping her cousin's shoulder for support as she doubled over, effectively pulling Malfoy's attention away from her. When the blonde's attention was pulled away, Hermione spun hourglass.

The world began to blur in reverse. When she had used the Time-Turner in her third year, the events that rewound infront of her built up slowly, like when she would rewind a the Wizard of Oz video cassette. The machine would hum as she watched Dorothy click her ruby heels in slow motion as speed was built to return the tape to the beginning of the story. Like when rewinding the film, she had able to make out who was who and what they did during the short periods of time travel. But when you traveled twenty years in the past, you did not get the luxury of such slow speeds. No, it was as if she was flying on a broom as quickly as possible. The light and darkness of the changing days had already faded to create an almost grayed world as she traveled through time. Her eyes slammed shut as the first waves of nausea set in, causing her mouth to salivate in preparation for expelling her breakfast. In an attempt to calm her queasy stomach, she slowed her breathing. In her mouth and out her nose, trying to will to not vomit as time sickness that had begun to set in.

Just as suddenly as it had started, Hermione came to an abrupt halt. Her boots hit the dirty road first, and the weight of the impact cause her knees to buckles. Her hands and knees took the brunt of the impact as she collapsed to the ground outside Puddlemere. Brown eyes began to unblur as she lifted her head to look back at the Wizarding village. Even from here she could make out signs of life in the village. Children running along the street, the smell of lunches baking inside the homes. Puddlemere was thriving once more, and the realization that just a few yards away was the man she had longed to see for the past fifty-five days. This was it. She was finally back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holds breath*


	29. Saying Hello Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**August 30th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 12:45**

Hermione had managed to make it to the porch of Sirius and Remus' flat in record time, and she only stumbled once during the run. She had a couple narrow misses with a some of the residents of the small village as they took their afternoon strolls, and was pretty sure she had made a woman drop a dozen eggs in the middle of the cobblestone street. But finding the witch to apologize would have to wait until later, as seeing Sirius was currently at the top of her priority list. She had so much to tell him, and to try and explain. Her world had changed dramatically back in 1999 and without his help, if she was not able to finish the assignment she had started she was certain when she finally did go back that a group of very angry Aurors and Unspeakables would be waiting to throw her in Azkaban.

She had spent nearly five minutes pounding at the front door of the flat before she realized neither Sirius nor Remus were inside. Lifting her wand she lowered the wards on the town home, having learned the particular set of protection spells the wizards favored the last time she had stayed with them, and allowed herself inside. It looked the same as she remembered, except more tidy than than before. The cleanliness could obviously be credited to Remus, because after learning Sirius' habits for the last eight months, she knew he was the farthest thing from tidy. Slipping her backpack off her shoulder she dropped it on the floor beside the front door where the men lined up their shoes, smirking at the orderly state of them. When the backpack landed with a heavy thud,she moved to toe off her own boots, leaving her tattered pair of dragonhides next to a pair of seldomly worn trainers she knew belonged to Sirius.

She moved silently through the living room and into the hallway to Sirius' bedroom. His door was ajar, revealing the mess inside and under normal circumstances, seeing the mess would cause the orderly side of her brain to kick into gear and want to pick up. But now it just seemed endearing. She had missed his mess, his constant habit of leaving a trail of clothing across the flat as he undressed, and most importantly, she missed him. She stood in the doorway for a moment, absorbing the smell that permeating his room for a moment longer, letting the familiarity of it linger as she closed her eyes. Gods if she could bottle this scent and sell it, Hermione would be a millionaire.

It was then that she heard the faint sounds of metal clashing against metal and a motorcycle engine backfiring come from the back yard. Her heart sputtered in time with the engine outside as she moved through the flat once more to the back door of the tiny townhome. Her hand trembled as she wrapped her fingers around the brass doorknob and through the thin window that sat in the door, she could see him.

Sirius was in back of the yard with his small shop opened up. His tools were scattered about the cement flooring, and the lawn and an old motorcycle was torn apart in the dead center of the shopspace. She could see his beloved Triumph sitting against the side of the shed, which meant the bike inside was a new toy he had recently picked up to tinker with. He wore a pair of tight blue jeans, his trusty mahogany dragonhide boots and a white t-shirt that was covered in splattered of oil and grime. His hair hung loose around his face as he eyed the bike quizzically. He had tuned the carburetor, given her a proper lube job but she still would not turn over like he was expecting. He did not usually like to resort to magic to sort out his bikes, but he was edging on close to grabbing his wand from the workbench and muttering a few charms to fix whatever internal bugs the bike had going on.

Hermione opened the back door slowly, watching as Sirius lifted his grime-covered hand to push his hair off his sweat lined brow as he walked around the bike, as if giving her a proper once over would meraculously solve his issue. As she shut the door behind her, it gave an audible squeak before it latched shut, exposing her retreat from the house.

"I'm almost done, Moony. I'll come inside in a second. She's being a right bint, but I think I might know what's causing her not to start finally," Sirius muttered, not even bothering to look up from his visual assessment of the motorbike as he kneeled down before the airbox and summoned a wrench from the workbench with the wave of his palm. This project had started as a way to distract himself from dealing with the pain of Hermione leaving, and the further he got into pulling the machine apart, the more dedicated he became to making rebuilding the motor the Muggle way. The way Hermione would have encouraged him to. With this unspoken goal in mind, Sirius had dedicated the majority of his free hours to researching and fixing the motorbike.

Hermione moved slowly down the three steps, her hand holding the crumbling railing as she made her descent to the patchy lawn. She smiled as she watched him work a few feet in front of her, completely oblivious as to who he was talking to. It was no wonder she had fallen for him. With the soft afternoon glow warming his cheeks, and making his black hair shimmer, it was hard to deny the appeal the eldest Black heir held. He had been a handsome man when she had met him so long ago, but in his youth, the boy could make a married witch forget her husband. Fighting the urge to run across the lawn and tackle him to the floor, Hermione instead paused at the bottom of the short flight of stairs and her lips were licked nervously. "So all your motorbikes are females, Sirius? Or just the ones who give you troubles? I've heard you got a thing for complicated women."

Sirius' hand froze mid-crank of the wrench as the feminine voice cut through the air like a knife straight to his heart. It couldn't be her? He was dreaming, right? Gray eyes lifted slowly from the airbox and he looked over the metal frame of the Triumph and it was as if he was hit in the chest with a rogue bludger the instant his eyes landed on her. Her hair was just as wild as he remembered, the beautiful brown curls he had longed to bury his fingers into framing her angelic face. In the sun he could make out the highlights within them that looked like the caramel ribbons on top of chocolate in the Honeydukes windows. And those eyes. He could get lost in them forever and die a happy man. Gods how he missed those eyes. The pictures he'd taken did not show the rich intoxicating color of those eyes he had longed to have stare back at him at the end of a bad day. She was back. She'd come back and was standing a few feet from him. It was if time had stopped ticking for a moment as he stared at her, unable to form a coherent thought beyond how fucking beautiful she looked in the moment, standing across the patchy lawn from in a pair of worn out jeans and a dingy old shirt. She was perfect, and she was finally back where she belonged.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as their eyes connected and a the feeling of electricity sparked across her skin to her heart. They stood like that for several moments, staring at one another across the patchy lawn in complete silence with neither moving, the air between them pregnant with disbelief. It was as if this moment they had both dreamed about for weeks was still just that, a dream. And the moment they touched they would wake up in empty beds once again.

"Hi." Her voice trembled as she attempted to gulp down the butterflies that had fluttered up from the pit of her stomach.

And just like that, Sirius awoke from the spell her reappearance put on him and he dropped the wrench. He rose quickly from his kneeling position on the ground and pressed his palm on the cracked leather seat of the motorbike as he hopped over it, lithe body clearing the bike easily. This wasn't a bloody dream. She was fucking back! Sirius was never one to praise the old gods, but he was sending thanks to Merlin, Circe, Nimune, Loki, and any other decrepit magic wielder that his pureblood ancestors felt the need to honor as he moved across the lawn towards her with an undeniable urgency.

Sirius had only needed to go so far before Hermione met him halfway. The moment he began towards her she ran to him, the pair meeting in the center of the lawn in a crashing embrace. Her arms locked around his neck and her legs around his waist as she jumped into his opened arms. Her fingers curled into the shoulders of his shirt, holding on tight as she brushed her face against the side of his. One hand moved to the middle of his shoulder blades, fingertips pressing against his skin through his shirt as she tried to pull herself closer to him. "I missed you so much, Sirius," she whispered.

Sirius' hands cupped her arse as he hoisted her slender frame up against his body until her legs locked around his waist. Once he felt her feet lock at his lower back, he trailed one hand up the side of her body. Nimble fingers danced along her curves, staining the inside of her shirt with streaks of black engine grease that had dirtied his hands. He pushed beneath her top so he could touch the skin at her side. She felt like silk, soft and supple; a sensation he would never grow tired of. The memories he had kept did not do justice to the feeling of have her back in his arms.

"I've missed you too, Little bird," he murmured softly as he removed his hand from beneath her shirt and he lifted it up to the back of her head, his fingers tunneling into the the curls as he nuzzled his cheek against hers, his stubble likely leaving her cheek flushed and raw, but he didn't care. She would have to hex him if she thought she was getting away from him again.

At his nuzzle Hermione's grin only widened across her face; the feeling of his possessiveness over her helped dampen the feelings of uncertainty she had held only moments ago. She moved her hands up the sides of his neck until she could cup his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. Campfire smoke, her most favorite shade of gray. Her thumbs stroked along his jawline as her eyes moved to dance across his face, wanting to preserve this moment in her mind. He held no new scars, nor other blemishes. The tip of his nose and his cheeks were smudged with engine grease, and his hairline was damp with sweat from his work in the sun, but despite his dirty appearance, he was perfect. Ripped edges and all, he was a masterpiece. Something she could never grow tired of looking at. He was her other half, she knew this now more than ever. "Sirius," she said in a breath of a whisper. "I have something I need to tell you."

With one hand fanned across her arse, holding her in place, the other rose to touch the side of her face. Matching the way she held his cheeks as he looked into the eyes. A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he slipped his dirty hand down along her jawline so his thumb could sweep across her bottom lip, shushing her words. Letting the pad of his thumb tug softly against the deliciously pout of her lips that he was planning on sampling in seconds, if she would just stop talking. "Unless you're telling me you are never going back, I don't fucking care. Hermione, I-"

"I love you, Sirius," she interrupted him quickly. Her heart was beating so violently beneath her chest she was sure he could feel it against his own. She knew it was a risk, admitting how she felt about him, but damn it. He needed to know. She had already lived through one life where she had denied her feelings for someone, and while in the end they did not work out anyways, she could not help but wonder what would have changed had they just admitted their feelings earlier. That ship had sailed long ago though, and at this point there was no turning back. Ron was gone, and she would be lying if she had said her first love had made her feel the same as this wizard did. Sirius was so different than anyone she had ever known. He was brash, mouthy, sarcastic and in all truth, utterly and completely wrong for her. Which is why it made sense the fates would bring them together. Love might never be easy for Hermione Granger, but it was certainly full of passion.

Sirius' eyes lifted from her mouth to her eyes at her words and his smile began to fade as his expression blanked in astonishment. Did she just say what he thought she said? "W-what?" he stammered out in almost disbelief. He had struggled to name the feelings he had felt for her since before her departure two months ago, and he knew now more than ever he felt the same as she did, but he thought she might run for the hills had he actually told her. She had been hesitant to give into the tension that bubbled between them during their first couple of missions, what the hell was he supposed to think she would do should he confess his love for her?!

"I love you," she said more firmly than she had before. Her teeth bit the bottom corner of her lip as she watched him process the three little words that held so much meaning. "You don't have to feel the same. I know our relationship isn't exactly pract-"

Sirius leaned forward mid-sentence to press his lips to hers in a breath stealing, toe curling kiss that brought a glow across her cheeks as he held her by her cheek to him. He might not have spoken those same three little words back to her, but in this moment she knew exactly how he felt about her. As passionate as the kiss had been, it was also equally short lived much to Hermione's dismay. As Sirius pulled back from the kiss, Hermione could not help but make a small noise in protest involuntarily which made Sirius chuckle in response. Pressing his forehead against hers, his fingers played with the tips of her curls he had just tucked behind her ear. "You talk too much, has anyone ever told you that before, Little bird?" He questioned.

"Uh-huh," she managed back as she tried to regain some coherent thought from his mind-numbing kiss. "Many times," she breathed out before leaning forward in an attempt to steal another kiss from him, not ready to give up the feelings of nirvana that it washed over her. Although it was obvious Sirius was not ready to be done teasing her, for the moment her lips parted and her tongue swept across his lower lip, begging for entrance, he pulled back from her.

"I love you too, Hermione." His voice was a ghost of a whisper when he finally returned the sentiments she shared with him only moments ago. It wasn't that he did not want to shout it from the rooftops, but rather it was because this moment was meant for no one else's ears. They were not worthy enough to hear their declarations of love and see their hurried kisses. Hermione was back, and he knew eventually he would have to share her with others, but for right now she was his.

The fire that had built inside the bottom of her belly roared to a blaze that covered her from head to toe the moment his lips met hers again with a renewed vigor, the source of the inferno burning the hottest at the apex of her thighs. How his words alone could ignite desire in her so fierce was something Hermione could not figure out, although in the moment she was not willing to take the time to try. It had been nearly two months since she had felt those lips against hers, his hands upon her skin. Fifty-five days! This was clearly far too long for the addiction she had formed for this wizard, as every sweep his tongue and brush of his fingers against her felt amplified. It was as if all her senses were in overdrive to try and make up for lost time. When his teeth nipped lightly at her bottom lip, asking unneeded permission to taste her, she let out a breath moan as shiver traveled down her spine.

The longer they embraced one another, the more hurried their kisses and touches became, morphing from a sweet reunion to blazing desire that neither one of them were capable of dampening. They had spent two months apart with the assumption of not seeing one another again, yet here she was, back in his arms. Sirius broke the kiss, much to the whimpering witch's dismay, but the moment his mouth found the base of her throat, her protests died. Her head rolled back to allow him access as he licked and nibbles his way across her skin, sampling the sweet taste of his witch that he had almost forgotten. His nose pressed against her pulsepoint as he wrapped his lips around the tender flesh, sucking softly on the delicate skin to leave his mark. She was his, and he was going to make damn sure everyone who came across her, in this timeline or the next would know it.

He knew that they were outside in his backyard, and the fence only provided so much privacy for the couple, but all common sense was thrown out the window the moment she began to let loose the little noises and moans in pleasure he had missed so terribly. As if driven mad by the sound, all thoughts of propriety vanished. (Although to be fair, he had little to begin with.) He needed her more than ever, he needed to feel her wrapped around him, screaming his name as he worked ease the ache of longing they held for one another. He needed more than just stolen kisses in his backyard.

His head lifted from his work of leaving love bites across the delicate skin of her neck and before she could protest his hands returned to her arse as he hoisted her up his body further and he moved to cross the lawn towards the small workshop he had been working out of moments ago. The house, although equally as close, seemed far too inconvenient. His bedroom was at the rear of the flat, and it would mean he would have to stop touching her to maneuver them to his room, and he was not prepared to let go of her anytime soon.

The shed was no larger than the largest broom closet at Hogwarts, but he had worked in much smaller quarters before. Moving inside, Sirius brought her to the old wooden workbench and he set Hermione down on the ground before it. His hands slipped up her sides to the small of her waist before he grasped the hem of her t-shirt and he tugged it off of her slender frame as Hermione slipped out of her jacket. The clothing was tossed to the dirty floor of the shed in a hurry, his eyes hungrily roving across her exposed skin, drinking in the sight of her in a thin lace black bralette that made his cock throb. If he had more time, he might worship her body the way it should be, but it had been too long. He had spent to many nights trying to remember the tight warmth of her pussy wrapped around his cock for him to take his time. He needed her, now.

Hermione's hands dropped to his waist, and she made quick work of his belt and jeans, opening the tight denim up so her hand could dive beneath the constricting fabric to wrap around his weeping cock. When she touched him, his own hands froze their movement is unbuttoning her jeans, his eyes closing as a soft hiss in pleasure was emitted. Hermione began to stroke his length, taking her time to feel every inch of his silken flesh as she used her free hand to push his jeans down over to his thighs. "Sirius, please...I need you," she whispered, her hips pressing into his frozen hands to encourage them to life once more.

Sirius could only growl in response to her request, who was he to deny her? His fingers made quick work of her button and zipper before her hooked his thumbs into the sides of her knickers and he pushed them both down quickly. Bending low to help her step out of them, his teeth scraped against her hip bone, causing his witch to shiver in anticipation. His hot breath tickling across the more intimate part of her body. He was so close he could smell her desire for him, and as much as he wanted to detour from his current plan to taste her essence, he knew both of them were beyond the need for foreplay.

Hermione reached out, her fingers pressing small divots into the skin of his back as she pulled him up to her so their lips to meet once again in feverious kisses. She lifted her right knee towards his hands as it trailed the length of her nearly nude form, and when he hooked her leg so he could lift her up off the floor, she leaned back against the workbench, her elbows bracing her against the rough wooden surface.

In one movement, Sirius draped her legs across his forearms until her knees bent at his elbows, spreading her body open for him. His eyes traveled down her body, across her flushed face, noting the way her brown eyes was nearly black with blown pupils, down her chest that pumped with the unsteady rhythm of heavy breaths; her breast still hidden behind the sheer lace. When they came to the apex of her thighs, he had to bite his bottom lip to prevent a needing groan from escaping. Her folds were already glistening for him, begging to be touched, fucked, or licked. Anything that might bring the witch closer to release, she so clearly needed. Moving his hips forward, his length slotted against her sodden slit and his eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment before he began to rock slowly, making sure the head of his cock brushed purposefully against her engorged click as he coated himself with her slick heat.

How had he forgotten this feeling? Had she always been this responsive? Widening his stance, Sirius pulled back his hips until the head of his length slotted against her entrance and before he could push inside her, she began girating her hips lower in an attempt to full her aching core with his cock.

"Sirius," His name was a cross between and moan and a whimper, her pussy already pulsing around the head of his cock that had slipped inside her. This was all the encouragement the wizard needed, clearly. His hands gripped the edge of the table on either side of her torso, opening up her legs impossibly wide and with a loud growl, he slammed his cock inside her to the hilt. She saw stars, the entire world disappearing around her as waves of bliss washed over her.

There was no time for her body to adjust to his girth, no tender kisses or declarations of love. As soon as he entered her body, Sirius began a steady rhythm, driving into his witch mercilessly, causing the middle of her back to scrape against the rough edge of his wooden workbench. Her head tipped back against the wooden surface of the bench as he bottomed out inside her, causing her moans to hitch an octave in praise.

"Ugh! Sirius!" Leaning forward Hermione hooked an arm around his neck and she pulled her torso against his so her breasts were flattened against his chest, her pebbled nipples aching for relief as they rubbed against his pectorals with each rough thrust he drove into her core. She curled her fingers into his shoulder as she gripped him for support, her toes curling in preparation for the climax she felt herself teetering on the edge of. She was so close, she could feel the pressure building beneath her skin. She needed just a little more to send her over. Snaking her free hand between their bodies, her fingers brushed through her damped curls on her mound until she could touch where their bodies connected, feeling his hot length push and pull from her body was almost enough to send her over the edge right then. "I-I'm close."

Her words were not needed, as he could feel her walls fluttered in preparation for her climax, encouraging his own to follow in suit. His hips snapped roughly against her, as if fulfilling an unspoken command.

Her fingers moved up from her entrance, slotting her clit between her index and middle finger, and as she began to swirl them in defined circles, her eyes rolled to the back of her head before fluttering closed. She could feel the flames lick up her body, leaving burning trails in their place as her orgasm ripped through her body, slamming against her in drudging waves as he pistoned in and out of her core.

As moans of his name carried her through her climax, Sirius roared with his own. He hips ground against hers as he bottomed out inside the witch, spilling his seed deep inside her. His body was slick with sweat, a mixture of his own and hers, and his muscles ached from exertion, but he would be damned if he was going to pull away from her. Not yet, not while he was still relishing the feeling of her back in his arms. Leaning forward his forehead came to her shoulder and his face turned to he could kiss and lick at the small love bites he had left upon her neck as he moved his hips in shallow thrusts, not ready to give up earning small moans and noises of pleasure from her. "Fuck, Hermione," he managed through heavy pants. "I don't want you to leave again...but that was bloody incredible. If you give me ten minutes, we can have a go again inside. Need to catch up for lost time," he grumbled through heavy pants before stilling his movements to bury himself to the hilt inside his witch, her body still fluttering softly around him as she came down from her high.

Hermione's chest vibrated with laughter at his words, her head tilting to the side as she allowed him more access to kiss and nibble at her neck. When he withdrew his softening cock from inside her a small noise of discontent came from the back of her throat involuntarily at the emptiness she felt. She knew that they could not spend the rest of the day shagging in his tool shed, but part of her wished they had the luxury.

As Sirius lowered her to the ground, unhooking her legs from his arms, her bare feet touched down on the dirty floor. Leaning back against the workbench to support her jello-like knees, Hermione smirked up at Sirius as he reached up to push the fringe of black hair off her forehead, effectively smearing black grease across his skin. How one wizard could manage to look so utterly desirable while covered in grim and flushed, Hermione would never know, but she was eternally grateful to the Fates for weaving their timelines together. "As much as I would enjoy that, we have more pressing matters than continuing this. I need to talk to you." Reaching out she attempted to wipe away the excess grime from his forehead, her thumb brushing over his brow.

Sirius leaned into the touch, tilting his head up so he could nuzzle against her palm, allowing his eyes to drift closed momentarily. "We can talk and shag, Little bird. I am capable of multitasking." His hips pressed against hers to drive home the point as he turned his head to nip at her fingertips before glancing back to Hermione as his brows wagged.

Biting her bottom lip, Hermione returned the pressure against her hips for a brief moment before she shook her head. "Sirius, no. This is important." Leaning up on her toes her lips pressed against his before she moved from his hold, ducking under his arms that were braced on either side of her body against the workbench and she moved to retrieve her clothing that was scattered about the small tool shed.

Groaning as she moved from in front of him, Sirius spun around as he hoisted up his own trousers from their place around his ankles, pouting as he fastened his belt. "And making love to your boyfriend who you haven't seen in two months isn't?"

"I wouldn't call what we did making love, Sirius." Hermione corrected with a laugh as she tugged on her shirt. Not that she was complaining. She was quite happy with the events that had just transpired but she also knew her fantasies about Sirius did not involve some quick shagging against a workbench in his backyard. Her hands moved to smooth out the wrinkles of her shirt, wanting to at least appear somewhat put together during their discussion should Remus return home. As she looked down at her attire, she finally noticed the thick streaks of black engine grease that stained the sides of her shirt and her head shook as she pursed her lips together to bite back her laugh.

"Oh, what would you call it then?" he questioned, reaching out to hook his fingers into her belt loops and he slowly tugged the witch to him until they were toe to toe. This is where she belonged. Not necessarily against him in his shed, but rather in his arms, by his side. Not twenty years in the future where who only knows what was going on.

"Um… shagging," she replied as if it was the most logical answer in the world, her tone bordering on sarcastic. Winding her arms around his waist, she leaned into the taller wizard until her chin rested against her sternum and she could feel the steady hammering of his heart as it came down from it's galloping rhythm. Her fingers snuck beneath the hem of his shirt to brush against his skin, unable to prevent herself from the almost absent-minded action.

"My apologies then, Little Bird. Why don't you allow me to make up for my lapse in judgement?" Cocking his head to the side his gray eyes glimmered with deviousness. If it were up to him, he would spend every moment they had together until her next departure naked under the sheets, or just naked. He wasn't opposed to shagging outside of his bedroom.

"Sirius," she scolded before giving him a firm head shake to further her position on his proposition. "I have got a lot to tell you. Arthur's death…" Brown eyes cast away for a moment, her brow furrowing as she struggled to find the right words. "It caused a lot more change than I anticipated. Although, to be fair I don't think we really knew the fallout. My Arithmancy calculations have not proved to be helpful, or accurate in the slightest since February."

"Merlin, you give Remus a run for his Galleons in the whole swot department, don't you?" he muttered under his breath and winced and he felt her playfully pinch his ribs. "Oouch! Play nice, or else I'll have to tie you up," he threatened before suddenly the invisible lightbulb in his mind flickered on. "Well...on second thought-"

"Godric, Sirius. Do you really have a one track mind!?" Hermione slipped from his grasp, backing out of the shed as she rolled her eyes to the wizard who shrugged at her question.

"No...I've also been thinking about what I want to eat for lunch," he defended. Snagging his wand from the mug at the back of the workbench, Sirius moved after her. Moony might have a litter of pups when he came home and saw the mess still in their yard, but that was a fight he was willing to have. He had much more important tasks at hand, like not letting that curly haired goddess from his sights.

"So food and sex? I travel back in time, illegally mind you, using a Time-Turner, and inform you that a lot of things have changed and your only thoughts are how to get me naked and which restaurant you'll be ordering take-out from for lunch? Quiet possibly in that exact order." Hermione's bare feet carried her across the patchy lawn quickly and up the steps towards his backdoor. Twisting the weathered silver knob she pulled it open before moving inside, letting it hang open behind her so he could follow.

"Hermione, look, whatever changes happened in the past we will deal with. You're back and quite frankly, everything else can piss off for the moment. Besides, it's not like you went back and found out you've been shagging someone else. How bad could it really be?" As he closed the door behind him his brow furrowed as Hermione could only belt out a heavy chorus of laughter in return to his question and he paused his movement. He knew he could be comical at times, but that question was not intended to to be witty. Lifting a single brow at her retreating form he waited in front of the back door for her response.

"All I'm going to say is that Time is rather unpredictable Sirius. And I've meddled far more than I should have." Reaching back, Hermione piled her loose curls into a messy bun on the back of her head before she glanced over her shoulder to him with a half smirk before offering a small shrug of her shoulder. If he only knew…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like I owed you all two chapters in one go, so here you go! I will likely not have the next one done before next week, so enjoy these two while you wait for more Sirmione with a splash of werewolf thrown in. (My favorite type of cocktail!) Huge thanks should be given to KnitKnitRead & Islandgurl777 for helping me get these two chapters ready for all of you. 
> 
> As always, I love to read all of your reviews and they do truely help inspire me to put words to paper (or rather type furiously) to help bring this story to life. Thank you all!


	30. Two is company, three's a crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**August 30th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 13:30**

"Are you really going to act like you don't know who you dated?" Sirius questioned from the opposite side of the living room where he paced in front of Remus' bookshelf. He had been going on about her vague answer about having a boyfriend when she went back in time. He was confident in their relationship, but it still perturbed him to think there might be another vying after her affections. Especially considering he was not around to defend his station in her life in 1999.

"No. I know exactly who he is," Hermione replied flatly, thankful that in this moment her back was to the wizard so he could not see the exaggerated roll of her eyes. Despite the irritation with his persistence, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was nearly comical the way he was insisting she divulge the information about her changed past. She should have known better than to even allude to having seen someone else, because Sirius was likely not going to drop this anytime soon.

"Then tell me who is it!" he pressed, his voice cracking with insistence.

"Sirius, for the love of Merlin, stop acting like a royal shit. No amount of stomping your feet like a spoiled toddler is going to make me tell you," she laughed before glancing over her shoulder to practically fall to pieces with giggles at the visual of her normally undeniably sexy boyfriend who was leaning up against the wall near the bookshelf with his arms crossed high upon his chest. Temporarily giving up her search for her stack of books in her backpack, Hermione began across the room towards Sirius. "As a reminder, you are technically nineteen years older than me. And I would imagine dated a plethora if witches and wizards before we met. So I'll ask one more time... do you really want to prevent the younger version of me from ever dating any boy?"

Sirius pursed his lips at her words, as if taking a moment to consider the logic behind her question. "...That depends I suppose," he said slowly, gray eyes narrowing slightly on Hermione as he watched her cross the room towards him.

"On what exactly?" On reaching the sulking wizard, she reached out, her hands slowly pulling his arms from around his chest so she could lace their fingers together as she looked up to him.

He knew what she was doing. Touching him, looking at him with those big brown eyes like he was the only thing that mattered. She was using her womanly wiles to try to make him forget about the real issue at hand, but it was not going to work this time. He let their fingers lace together, his thumbs brushing across the side of her hand for a moment before he pulled away so he could move around her, already planning his retreat, for he knew what would come following his question. "Did you shag him?"

"Sirius!" Hermione gasped in disbelief, shooting him daggers over her shoulder as her mouth dropped open.

"Well that answers it!" he responded almost victoriously as he backed up across the room towards the couch. "Now tell me who this little shit is so I can go pay his Mum visit before she winds up knocked up with your future ex-boyfriend."

"Absolutely not!"

"Hermione...let's be reasonable. You don't want to start our relationship off on the wrong foot," he reasoned as he lowered himself to the couch, kicking up his bare feet to rest against the coffee table. His fingers laced behind his head as he lifted a single brow to her. "Do you?"

"First off, I think it's a bit late for that. The whole being from different time periods might have sullied that for us. Secondly, me not divulging of all the details about the future is not going to make one bit of difference. I am allowed to have a life before you, Sirius Black," she told him firmly as she moved across the room to her backpack. She had altered her past too much already, and as much as she was in love with the proverbial man-child sitting next to her on the couch, she was not about to let him alter any timeline that involved Harry.

"I have never kept secrets from you," he pouted, reaching out to tug on the strap of her backpack to pull Hermione's attention away from her search.

"Well that's because you usually do not stop talking long enough to actually keep a secret."

"Excuse me?" Sirius asked in fake astonishment, his hand coming to rest on the center of his chest. "That is entirely false, Little Bird. I am a WONDERFUL secret keeper," he insisted. Sitting up from his lounge on the couch, his feet hit the floor with a heavy thud. "For example, I have never once told anyone about how James and I snogged our sixth year!"

Hermione's eyes widened at his admission and she froze for a moment. Did he… Merlin, was there anyone this wizard did not have some sort of amorous past with!? "You what?!" Forget finding that book! What the bloody fuck did he just admit to? Hermione withdrew her hands from the backpack and immediately zipped the bag closed before turning to look at her boyfriend.

"Shit…." Gray eyes widened a bit at the realisation that the once closely-guarded secret was now known by someone other than the two parties involved in the mishap with magic'd mistletoe. He had managed to keep it under wraps for nearly three years now, clearly that was deserving a medal! Especially considering what a horrible kisser Prongs had been. Too much tongue and teeth if Sirius was going to be honest.

"Merlin, Sirius. Is there any Marauder you have not snogged at this point?" Hermione pressed as she lifted her hands to rake them through her hair, pushing the curls behind her ears.

"You mean to tell me the Gryffindor girls never practiced kissing one another during your years at school? I find it hard to believe you never snogged a dorm mate," Sirius challenged.

"Absolutely not!" Hermione returned quickly, aghast at the accusation, nudging Sirius knees as she crossed in front of him to deposit herself on the opposite end of the couch. "So you dated Remus, snogged James. I can only imagine what your past with Peter involves," she mused as a small chuckle in disbelief was let loose.

"Peter and I-"

"Wait! Don't tell me," Hermione interrupted and she turned on the couch so her back was pressed against the arm so she could face Sirius. Lifting her finger she tapped it against her bottom lip in mock thought. "You gave him a handjob under the library table!"

Sirius' booming laughter filled the room the moment her accusation was verbalized, his head tipping back against the couch as his hands went to his belly. "Pete? A...A handjob?" When his unabashed laughter began to subside enough for him to get a word in, Sirius turned his head to face her, a playful grin and wicked glint glittering in his eyes. "I would never, Little Bird. I am _obviously_ more of a jobby kind of guy."

"Sirius!"

"I'm just taking the piss, Merlin, witch. Calm down." Sirius smirked, pushing himself up on the couch. When Hermione reached across the couch to swat his arm, he caught her hand mid-swing and utilized the opportunity to pull her into his lap, his hands guiding her thighs on either side of his hips before settling at the small of her waist. "Pete and I have only shared a bed, platonically. Nothing sexual. You need not worry. I do not harbor any feelings beyond friendship for any Marauder, I can assure you of that."

Hermione only nodded at his words, knowing that he spoke the truth. She did not need to know what the future contained to be certain that he only had eyes for her, but the opportunity to tease Sirius did not present itself very often, so she had to take what she could. Her hands moved across the expanse of his chest and over his shoulders to lock behind his neck as she settled into his lap. "So I shouldn't worry about those late night missions with James?" she joked.

"Well I wouldn't say that….James might love Lily, but I know my true place in his heart," he teased, smirking as his hand wandered up her skin, softly stroking the length of her back as he had done several times before. "This is besides the point, Little Bird. Give me one example of where I could not keep a secret."

"Uh… How about ten seconds ago when you told me you and James snogged." Hermione laughed, her nose wrinkling as her smile widened.

"Doesn't count. I was under duress," he responded off-handedly with a small shrug of his shoulders, as if the explanation was completely reasonable.

"Under duress?" Hermione snorted in response, fingers winding themselves into the soft hair on the back of his neck. "Okay fine. How about the time where you told Remus about how I used a Time-Turner?" She gave a quick tug to the hair wound around her fingers.

"Oww! Not nice, Little Bird." Sirius reached back, rubbing the back of his head after batting away her hands from his hair. He was all for hair-pulling but not this kind! "How do you know I told? You've been gone."

"..Sirius… I am from the bloody future, how the fuck do you think I know?"

Sirius' brows furrowed for a moment, his lips pursing in thought before he glanced back up to the witch still in his lap and his head shook. "That doesn't count either then. You can't use your…. Your powers to bend the truth," he reasoned.

"Bending the truth? You can't be serious."

"Well actually I-"

"Don't!" She interrupted, her hand going out to clamp over his mouth so he could not finish the sentence, doing her best to contain her laughter that was threatening to derail the conversation. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Reaching up his fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he gently tugged her hand away from his lips. "Fine, spoil all my fun." Smirking his tongue darted out, moistening his lips as his eyes danced across her face. "But it doesn't change anything. It still doesn't count."

"The hell is doesn't. Sirius you told Remus! After I explicitly told you that you cannot let anyone know."

"It doesn't count if Time-Travel is involved, Hermione. Don't you understand the rules of our relationship?" When all she could do was laugh in response to his absurd question, Sirius used the opportunity to press on. "Nothing I say counts if I am under duress, piss drunk, with all the Marauders on a full moon, or if Time-Travel is involved," he listed off, using his fingers to count out the four point as they made.

"So...when Time-Travel is involved, nothing counts," Hermione reiterated, a small mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she raised her brows to him.

"Right. As you said, Hermione. Time muddles things, so clearly it ought to not count."

"Right…. So then the identity of my ex does not count, because Time-Travel is involved. Thank you for that sound logic, Sirius. I could not agree more!"

"Ahh.. I see what you did there. Tricky witch." His hands moved quickly, sliding under her shirt to tickle the sensitive skin on her sides as he tipped Hermione over on the couch to pin her petite frame under his. The truth was, as much as Sirius did want to determine the identity of this future ex-boyfriend, he was just glad to have her back with him now. Because despite the complications that were sure to arise, he could pretend, even if just for a moment that they were like any other witch and wizard out there. Blissfully in love and bound to spend the rest of their lives together.

Hermione's head tipped back as laughter cut from her throat as his hands worked up her sides, fingers tickling across her ribs. Her hands pushed against his wrists, desperate to end the assault as she wiggled beneath him. "S-S-Sirius! Stop!" she managed through her giggles, her cheeks flush.

His fingers paused their dance at the band of her brassiere, his hips pressing against hers to push her into the soft support of the couch to prevent her escape. "Only if you tell me his name."

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to remind him she was not telling, the sound of the doorknob jiggling pulled both of their attention away from each other and to the opening front door. Remus nudged open the door wider with his hip as he moved into the house. In each hand was a white plastic bag and his wand poking out from the breast pocket on his jacket. "Padfoot, I hope you're in the mood for Bengal's. I stopped on the way back from the Ministry," the sandy-haired blonde called out a bit louder than needed considering Sirius and Hermione were both only across the room, but he had not looked into the living room yet. Stretching back with his foot he closed the door behind him before toeing off his black trainers.

"That sounds great, Moony. Thanks, mate," Sirius replied, clearing his throat as he moved off of Hermione to sit on the edge of the couch. She lay prone behind him as he reached up to scratch at the back of his neck nervously, knowing the werewolf would not been overly thrilled Hermione was back. Remus had helped him through the heartache of her leaving, comforting him during the lowest points as any friend would, but he had made no attempt to hide his dislike for the witch.

The aromatic scent of curry almost instantly filled the room, causing Hermione's stomach to rumble with hunger pains in an unpleasant reminder that she had not eaten in several hours. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she scooted herself against the arm of the couch before twisting to put her feet on the ground, so her and Sirius sat shoulder-to-shoulder as they watched Remus advance into the flat.

"I figured you were too busy with the bike to come inside and cook, although to be honest, you're not much of a chef," he ribbed before turning to glance into the living room at his friend. When his eyes fell on the form of not only his friend, but the curly-haired witch his smile instantly fell. He had stopped walking into the living room with their takeout, his lips pursing together as he glanced between the couple before rolling his eyes. Their cheeks were flushed, Sirius' hair slightly a mess and certainly that bird's nest she called curls had seen better days. Judging just by way they sat with the side of their arms and thighs touching, Remus knew instantly that whatever sadness Sirius had felt about her leaving had instantly vanished the moment he set eyes on her. "Great….," he breathed out with heavy sigh. "Time Lord's back."

"Did you just call me Time Lord?" Hermione questioned, her brow furrowing as she glanced between Sirius and Remus quizzically. She knew Remus was made privy to the information regarding her Time-Turner usage, but Time Lord? That was pushing the envelope just a little.

"Heh, yeah. It's..uh...a new nickname for you. Ya know, Padfoot, Prongs, Moony, Wormtail, and… Time Lord." Sirius flashed an awkward grin to Hermione before leaning over to press a quick kiss against her cheek. Sirius moved off the couch and across the living room towards the small kitchen. "I need a beer, anyone else want a beer?" he offered, hoping the two would take the bait and their conversation might move away from her superb nickname and onto better things. Like how delicious their dinner smells, or the fact his girlfriend was home!

Remus eyed Sirius, watching his retreat before he slowly turned his attention to Hermione, who was still processing the half-truth that Sirius had just told her. "I'll take one, Pads." Remus moved into the living room, setting the takeout bags on the table in front of the couch, and he began to unpack the food from them, setting two large boxes of rice down and two plastic to-go containers full of different flavors of curry.

Sirius did not wait for Hermione's response; he removed three large bottles of Butterbeer from the fridge before bounding back into the room quickly, not wanting to leave Remus and Hermione alone for too long. Twisting the caps off the bottles he tossed them on the coffee table before handing the first bottle to Remus as he scooted around the table, careful not to bump it as he moved to sit down in the middle of the couch.

"Just so you know, I only bought enough for the two of us, and I am not sharing with her." Remus lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a large gulp as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch, Sirius acting as a physical buffer between himself and the witch.

"It's nice to see you too, Remus!" Her voice laced heavily with sarcasm, Hermione leaned back on the couch so she could eye the moody werewolf as she rolled the cold bottle of beer between her palms. "It's so wonderful to see you haven't changed...at all. I missed your charm and humor so terribly while I was away."

Remus responded with an eye roll as he opened his container of curry, tossing the plastic lid on the coffee table before dropping a spoon into the mixture. "And I missed the way way your overpowering scent masks everything in my flat. Floral vomit and Hermione musk, my absolute favorite combination," he muttered before taking a large spoonful of curry.

"Merlin, are we _really_ going to do this again?" Hermione questioned, exacerbated, before take a large gulp from the bottle of beer in her hands. "I am not changing my bloody shampoo just because you have an enhanced sense of smell, Remus. Grow up," she grumbled, reaching out to pull the fork from Sirius' hand to stab at the container of yellow curry in his hands, spearing a piece of chicken.

"As much as I dislike whatever concoction you call shampoo-"

"I think that one is called conditioner, Moony. It's rather pleasant if you haven't tried it yet, makes my curls really shine," Sirius offered as he picked up a pinch rice with his fingers before popping it into his mouth. When Remus and Hermione both looked at him like he had grown a third head he simply shrugged. Well if Remus was going to dislike something, he ought to at least know the proper name, right?

"Whatever the bloody fuck it's called. It is not the problem. You smell because _you're not supposed to be here,_ " he explained flatly as he ate some of the pumpkin from his curry. "I mean it's bad enough you were here before, but you had to come back and invade the semi-sense of normalcy we'd just developed. I finally got Padfoot back to not moping about the flat."

"I wasn't moping!" Sirius defended through a mouthful of chicken and rice.

"Oh no?" Remus questioned, turning his hardened gaze to his friend as he leaned forward to set his container of curry on the table. "Refusing to leave the flat and going through five bottles of Firewhiskey a week is normal for someone who isn't depressed. I must have forgotten."

"Moony!" Sirius hissed out, his brow knitting at he shot his friend an angry look.

"Sirius, really?" Hermione questioned, glancing away from the self-satisfied Remus, who was obviously elated his words caused a small, albeit there, ripple of guilt.

Sirius looked between the two most important people in his life (although James was a close third) and he pursed his lips together in thought before pushing off the couch. Stepping over the table, and narrowly avoiding upending his container of curry, he stood before the pair, his hands on his hips as he eyed his girlfriend and best friend. "Okay, look. If this is going to work you two need to stop being at odds with one another," he pointed out brusquely. "Remus, I love her, and yeah shit's a bit complicated-"

"You can say that again," the werewolf mumbled as he settled back on the couch, his arms crossing over his chest defiantly.

"But it doesn't change the fact I do! I love you too, just differently… Look, you really ought to at least try not to be snarky. She has done nothing but try to help us."

"I didn't ask for her help!"

"You didn't have to!" Hermione snapped quickly, scooting to the edge of the couch so she could rest her elbows on her knees as she ran her fingers through her hair. "Remus, I'm not back here to play house. I'm back because if we don't stop Voldemort a lot of innocent people die."

"If you got sent back for such noble reasons, then why the fuck did you start a relationship with him?!" Remus snapped, gesturing to Sirius who still stood on the other side of the coffee table. "You're supposed to be this brilliant witch. If you're so bloody smart then why would you even consider beginning a relationship with a man who you cannot be with?"

"Falling for Sirius was never in the plan, Remus. Christ, don't you get it?" Turning her head, she rested her cheek against her palm, big brown eyes pleading with the werewolf to just try and be open about this. "I came back with the intention of stopping Voldemort before his movement gets out of hand, before more people fall under his spell. I told myself I wouldn't get attached to any of you, not this version of you, because I've known both of you since I was thirteen." Licking her bottom lip, she cast her eyes to the ground for a moment, trying to think of the best way to weave her words together so Remus might grasp the situation Hermione had found herself in.

"I came back the first time to do a job, and along the way I found love. I certainly did not plan it; Sirius is nearly twenty years my senior in 1999, and my best friend's Godfather. Our relationship complicates things far more than you realize. And if I am being honest, it also scares the shit out of me because who knows what the future will hold when I do go back. Both of your track records with staying alive is pretty fucking shitty, no offense." Laughing a little, brown eyes flashed between Sirius and Remus almost sympathetically before she looked down at her hands, watching her pick at her thumbnail nervously. "I've never claimed to be smart, Remus. Ironically enough you were one of the first people at Hogwarts to say I was bright." The irony of the memory was not lost on her, especially considering the younger version of her most favorite Professor was far from complimenting her.

"Okay….fine. Let's say I believe this isn't some sort of insane idea. Why should I believe you're from the Ministry? You're our age. Am I really supposed to believe the Ministry would entrust a teenager with a….a bloody Time-Turner?" Remus pressed. When Sirius moved to kick at his shin under the table Remus simply held up his hands as if it say 'what?!'. If she really was doing what she claimed to be, then she could explain herself! It was a fair question, and the only reason Sirius might be miffed was because he was shagging her.

Hermione snorted slightly, not at all put out or annoyed by his inquisition. Hell, if she were in his position she might be asking the same! When told, her tale did seem a little far-fetched, even she had to admit. "Considering I have actually used a Time-Turner before it did not seem far-fetched to be placed on the assignment."

"You used one before?" Sirius questioned, his head cocking to the side as he looked at his girlfriend who only fell further into her fit of giggles. Great… Moony broke her.

"Yes. Third year...I, uh… Merlin this sounds bad, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore helped me borrow one from the Ministry so I might take all available courses." Glancing between the two men, her teeth worried her bottom lip.

"Minnie helped you get a freaking Tea-Timer?!" Sirius questioned in disbelief. "She only ever gave me detention, and a biscuit once," he mumbled, as if feeling dejected his favorite Professor had not offered up such a valuable object. Although truthfully, one could only imagine the type of pranks an adolescent Sirius Black might have pulled had he been granted access to a Time-Turner.

Remus reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose to prevent himself from falling into laughter over his friend's reaction. "So, Minerva helped you get a Time-Turner when you were thirteen? What the hell made you so bloody special that the Ministry would risk letting a child use a highly dangerous magical artefact?"

"Well, by that time Harry, Ronald and I had fought off Voldemort twice, although they had yet to truly believe it. I suppose it helped to have Professor Dumbledore's blessing, though. He had a bit of clout, ya know?"

"So, if you have fought him twice before, why do you need our help? Why can't you just go up and kill the bastard already? Sirius said you lot had killed him during your time. Just do it again."

Hermione reached out, grabbing his half-drunk Butterbeer from the table and lifting it up to drain the rest of the contents without asking permission. If he was going to dislike her already, drinking his beer wouldn't make matters any worse, right? "Well, it is a tad bit more complex than just killing him."

Remus frowned, watching as she rolled his empty beer bottle between her hands. "Complex? What, is he like that bloody witch from those American books? He can only be killed with water or something?"

"Is that what Pete's problem is then?! Last week he smelt like absolute death, refused to take a damn shower at Prongs'. I almost hosed him off outside," Sirius mused in the background. Having long abandoned his post of standing menacingly over the pair as the spoke, he was sitting cross legged on the floor helping himself to both curry containers.

"No, He's not like the Wicked Witch, although that visual is rather amusing," Hermione laughed. "Voldemort has created Horcruxes that must be destroyed before he can be killed. If my calculations are correct, he has already created five or six. I'm not entirely on the timeline of one of them, and it wasn't like he kept written record of when he did things."

"Horcrux?" both men said in unison, obviously having never heard of the dark magic before. She should not have been surprised, because even in her time the magic was so rarely used, and with Dumbledore removing all text on it from the school's library it was not easy to find information on.

Hermione glanced between Sirius and Remus, noting the look of confusion on both of their faces and she sighed. "We're going to need a lot more of these if I'm going to explain this," she said, lifting up the empty beer bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Sorry it took me a little longer to get this to you than normal. Hope it was worth the wait. I adore you all and appreciate every single one of your reviews!
> 
> Big thanks to KnitKnitRead & IslandGurl777 for telling me this wasn't complete garbage when I had some serious self doubt!
> 
> Stay tuned for some more Remus/Sirius/Hermione goodness as she catches them up to speed on what Voldemort has been doing the past several years. :) ~ MM


	31. Brick by brick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**August 30th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 21:00**

"So, he put part of his soul in a book?" Remus questioned for what felt like the twelfth time, looking up from the thick weathered tome Hermione had handed him at the beginning of her lesson on Horcruxes and how this form of ancient and Dark Magic tied back to Voldemort. Remus looked back down to the opened page of _The Secrets of the Darkest Arts_ , jade eyes scanning over the instruction on how to successfully split one's soul. He had read the passage more than one, and each time it made the baby fine hairs on the back of his neck stand.

"It was not a book, it was a diary….his diary, technically," Hermione corrected. She was sitting across from the couch on the floor against the wall. Around her several empty bottles of Butterbeer lay, and although on a normal night the amount of alcohol consumed would likely leave her feeling rather light-headed and with a false sense of euphoria, the topic that they had been on for the past several hours had left her nearly as sober as when she had started. "But yes. His soul has been split five, or six ways."

"Six?" Sirius looked up from a blue folder he had taken from Hermione moments ago. His eyebrows raised in disbelief as he watched her lift her eyes from the floor, where she was rolling an empty bottle between her bare feet, to him.

"When we killed him the first time, there were technically seven. So five is actually not a bad number." Hermione flashed a half grin to Sirius who only winced in return for her dark humor. The truth was, there were still a lot of unknowns about the locations of the Horcruxes, how many there were, who was following him and well, pretty much everything surrounding Voldemort and his followers. Enough uncertainty that it made Hermione nervous, but she couldn't very well tell Sirius and Remus that, now could she?

"Merlin, Hermione," Remus muttered as he shook his head, closing the tome in his hand with a loud snap. "If you know this, why don't you go to the Ministry, ask for their help stopping this bastard?" Remus questioned as he leaned forward to lay the old book on the table. "I mean you brought proof with you, they can't say you were crazy or lying."

"The Ministry's track record with doing the right thing is not exactly great, Remus. Even when presented with all the evidence. I know it's different timelines, but… forgive me for not trusting them to do the right thing. Besides, we know there was some corruption from within during the first war. We can't pinpoint every follower, especially since not every follower took the Dark Mark."

Sirius slid the file containing pictures and information about the known Horcruxes over to Remus before rising from the couch, his hands locking behind his neck, elbows out, as he passed the length of the living room. "So, once we have destroyed the Horcruxes we can kill Voldemort. What happens if we try and kill him without destroying the other pieces of his soul?"

"I would imagine the same thing that happened last time. He'll go away for several years and come back again," Hermione speculated before shrugging her shoulders. "It's not like this is a form of Magic heavily followed. That text is the only one I've been able to secure to date that contains information on Horcruxes and I had to take it from Professor Dumbledore's personal collection before I left school my sixth year."

"You stole from Dumbledore?" Remus questioned incredulously. From what Sirius had told him about the witch, she did not exactly seem like a rule-breaker.

"Wow, Little Bird. Color me impressed. We never had the balls to try and take something from Albie," Sirius smirked, chuckling softly under his breath at the thought.

"No….I stole from- you know, what? It doesn't matter how I got it," she replied, thinking better than to divulge that their childhood enemy turned spy had been in possession of the Headmaster's belongings post-murder. "The point is, we need to destroy them. Finding them won't exactly be a walk in the park, but I think I have enough intel to help locate them. I'm just not certain how they can be destroyed this time around."

"What do you mean, this time around? We'll just cast a blasting curse on the damn thing and be done with it," Remus suggested, leaning back on the couch as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"They need to be destroyed beyond repair, Remus," Hermione explained, glancing up to the werewolf before looking over to Sirius, both of whom were looking at her like she had grown two extra heads. Of course, it would seem that way. Even she had found the stipulations behind the destruction hard to comprehend in the beginning. "You can't just like… hit it with a hammer or _Bombara_ the objects. Even magic is not enough to destroy it. We would need to use something more powerful."

"Beyond magical repair? There aren't that many things that could break something beyond repair," Remus mused, reaching up to tug on his right earlobe gently, something he had done since childhood when lost in thought. "There's Fiendfyre, but that's pretty unstable unless you're fairly practiced in the art of fire magic. And judging by the fact you have both eyebrows and all of your limbs I assume you didn't use that method."

Hermione snorted, sliding her feet back until she could rest her forearms on the tops of her bent knees. " _I_ did not use Fiendfyre, you are correct."

"Which means only a couple options. The Forest Fae in Russia are supposed to have a potion that could destroy any metal it's poured on, even Goblin made. But they're not known for being kind to outsiders so I doubt you used that. There's the killing curse, but none of the horcruxes you've listed are humans so I doubt that would help much."

Hermione smirked, watching the possibilities of what she had used to destroy the horcruxes rove through his mind. It was almost endearing to see him like this, young, full of life and without resentment towards her. The man she had known in her youth bubbled beneath the surface, waiting for Remus to mature and calm down. "We used basilisk venom...and fangs," Hermione explained, watching as both Sirius and Remus' brows shot up in surprise.

"How in the bloody fuck did you get a basilisk fang?" Remus questioned, aghast by the notion of coming across a beast of that magnitude. "Why would someone sell something like that to a kid, no offense."

"We didn't buy it. I can't imagine many people in the illegal trade business would be keen to deal with us," Hermione smirked. The thought of waltzing up to an underground dark apothecary merchant during what would have been her seventh year was rather amusing. That crowd would have happily held them hostage and turned them over to the Dark Lord before they would even say 'basilisk'. "No, we went into the Chamber of Secrets and took it off the remains of the one Harry fought during second year."

"What?!" Sirius piped up, campfire smoke eyes wide with surprise as he turned to look down at Hermione.

"Godric, what kind of fucked up childhood did you guys have?" Remus questioned, his hand going up to ruffle his sandy blonde hair. "The most exciting thing that happened while we were at Hogwarts was the planting of the Whomping Willow."

Hermione's laughter filled the living room as she looked between the two men, her face broken with a wide grin. "I dunno, having a werewolf student would have been more exciting than having a werewolf Professor."

"Dumbledore let a Werewolf teach?!" Remus coughed in surprise. He knew that the Headmaster liked to play fast and loose with the rules, hell even allowing him to attend school was a pretty big leap from what was allowable. But letting a grown Werewolf teach? Had he lost his mind?

For the first time in months, Hermione allowed herself to belly laugh. She should not have said anything, especially since their future could change so much between now and her time at Hogwarts. Even after leaving the past, there was nothing guaranteeing that Remus would end up at the school again, especially if Sirius and James were still around to keep him for wallowing in his misery.

Pushing up off the ground, Hermione brushed her palms against the rough denim on her thighs. "Look, it doesn't matter how I got it….or what happened when I was at school, because if we kill Voldemort, then none of it will have to happen again. So as fun as it would be to relive every teensy little adventure I went on, we really ought to try and focus on the problem at time."

"So you're just going to let us wonder how a gigantic fucking snake managed to stay hidden in the school for the entire seven years we attended?" Sirius pressed, lifting a single brow at the witch. She couldn't very well just drop a bomb about her past with no explanation! He knew some of the details, but it was becoming more obvious from each tidbit she let slip that she had just scratched the surface when retelling her past.

"Yes, that was the plan. To be honest, a lot more happened than dealing with a dangerous serpent when I was at Hogwarts. My adolescence was a bit different than yours, Sirius. I wasn't pulling pranks and trying to sleep with half the school."

"Excuse me," Sirius interrupted, holding up his index finger towards Hermione as he straightened his posture. "It was not half the school, thank you very much. Maybe a third, at most, I had standards you know."

Remus rolled his eyes, snorting at Sirius' correction. "And what exactly were those standards, Pads? Having a pulse?" he questioned through laughter before ducking to dodge a pillow that Sirius had sent flying at him from the other side of the couch with a flick of his wand and a wordless spell.

"Look, if you both are genuinely interested in the trivial details, I can tell you _some things_ when we're not trying to figure out how destroy these Horcruxes," Hermione offered. Moving off the wall, she crossed the living room, careful to step over the bottles that were haphazardly littering the floor and coffee table. She maneuvered to the couch, eyeing it cautiously, as Remus had decided to sit in the middle. No matter what side she would have chosen, she would still be stuck next to the Werewolf, and although he had been a bit less hostile over the course of the evening, she was not particularly sure how he would feel if she settled in next to him. But the floor was hard, the effects of the alcohol were becoming ever more apparent as they continued on and she needed to sit on something softer than carpet. Hermione released her bottom lip, having been chewing on the corner during her internal debate, and with a soft huff she plopped herself on the couch to the right of Remus.

The sandy blonde wizard hesitated throwing the pillow back at Sirius. Glancing at the witch out of the corner of his eye, he pursed his lips slightly as he watched her settle into the couch next to him, lifting her bare feet to rest against the coffee table. The resentment he felt towards her for being with Sirius was waning, but the sting of unrequited love was still fresh. Like a skinned knee, it burned the most when faced with the truth. Sirius was not ever going to return to being his, and if he meant to stay in his life, he needed to accept that….and her. "We'll figure out a way," Remus voiced, glancing down to his hands in his lap, picking at the hem of his plaid button-down.

"We?" Hermione looked at Remus, her voice laced with surprise. He didn't meant that, right? He hated her. Why would he help her?

"Moony, I don't know Mate. I mean we just got you back from Germany a couple months ago. Prongs and Wormtail would hex me if you got hurt again," Sirius interjected. Crossing the room to the pair, he stepped over Hermione's legs before settling down on the coffee table in the narrow space between Hermione's legs and Remus' knees. Reaching out, Sirius placed his hand on Remus' knee, trying to pull the werewolf's attention up from his lap.

"Yes we," Remus insisted. Reaching out he laid his hand on top of Sirius', letting his calloused fingers brush softly across the top of his palm, silently cursing himself for missing the feel of Sirius' skin beneath his fingertips. "You can't expect me to sit by and let you both run off and save the world without me," he huffed, glancing up to his friend. As jade and gray met, Remus flashed Sirius a quick little smile before shrugging. "Besides, she's supposed to be brilliant and I am obviously the smartest Marauder. I'm sure we can come up with something to make to sure this bastard never comes back." He turned his head every so slightly to the side so he could glance at the curly haired witch as he offered a proverbial olive branch towards her.

Hermione worried her bottom lip as she looked from Sirius to Remus. Her boyfriend silently pleaded with her to agree with him and tell Remus he ought not join them, but she couldn't. It wouldn't have been fair. Remus was just as much James and Lily's friend as Sirius. Hell, he was more of a friend than she was. Besides, if she had any chance at making this right with him, she really had to try and find some common ground with him, right? "So, we just need to get a hold of Basilisk venom and a fang…. Easy peasy. I mean it's not like that there has not been a known breeder in England since the 1500's or anything."

Remus' hesitant smile widened ever so slightly at her words, just barely enough for either Sirius or Hermione to register before he reached up to rub his hand across his lips to hide it. He was not about to let her know she was breaking down his walls, even if it was brick by fucking brick. "Don't suppose you fancy going back to borrow a fang from that same Basilisk?"

"Well, considering she is very much alive and likely hungry right now," Hermione began, snickering through her words. "That would be a big no from me. They're not exactly easy creatures to fight. Last time I saw it, I was petrified for weeks and I do not want to relive that experience."

"Okay, remember how you told me I can't know everything about your past?" Sirius withdrew back from Remus, his brow knitting as he looked at his girlfriend. "Well, I am pulling the concerned boyfriend card and demanding to have written record of what 'teensy adventures' you went on, because clearly I need to make sure you fucking live through your time at Hogwarts." Basilisks, Time Turners, fucking adventures into the Forbidden Forest! Sirius knew exactly what lay beyond the safest of the castle grounds and the idea of a younger version of Hermione traipsing into danger without any sort of actual protection made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Hermione shook her head, reaching up to brush some stray curls from her line of vision. "As sweet as your concern is, Sirius, I obviously made it through the school year without a watchdog. I certainly don't need one the second time around." Glancing over to Remus, Hermione jutted her thumb at Sirius. "Has he always been like this?"

Remus lifted his hand to his lips, covering them for the briefest of moments to hide the mischievous grin that was splashed across them. "You mean an utter pain in the arse?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sirius' eyes widen in surprise by his agreement with Hermione. "Yeah, Pads has been a bit of a diva since first year. It's only gotten worse with age."

"Okay, okay. That's enough!" Sirius stood up, his knees knocking Hermione's feet off the table as he reached out and plucked her from the couch, hoisting her laughing frame over his shoulder. "You two have clearly drank too much. We're going to bed," he stated firmly, ink black locks falling in his face as he shifted Hermione's frame until her hips were settled against his shoulder.

"Awww… Come on Pads. We were just getting started!" Remus laughed, his hands lacing behind his neck as he reclined back on the couch, flashing his ex and Hermione a toothy grin. "Besides, you're the one who said we needed to play nice."

"Yeah, play nice. As in get along. I do not remember saying team up against me," Sirius called out from his retreat towards the bedroom. "Besides, we're about to have a busy fucking day tomorrow. This one needs her beauty sleep. Have you seen her on less than six hours? Ooow! Merlin, Little Bird. I was just looking out for you, no need to pinch."

Remus tipped his head back on the couch, laughing as he watched Hermione pinch at the sensitive skin on Sirius' side once more, causing the wizard to stumble into the wall, nearly knocking down a small collection of photographs they had. "Busy day? We're just going to James and Lily's," Remus reminded him, obviously confused because their time table was far from packed if there was just one thing on the agenda.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder before turning around to face his friend, narrowly missing slamming the back of Hermione's head against the wall in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Sirius! I'm back here, ya know!" She shouted, her forearm flat against the wall to prevent herself from getting any closer to the wall.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to check on Hermione, before looking back at Remus and he shrugged, lifting the hand that was not holding onto the back of Hermione's thighs. As if to say 'what's her problem?'. "Well, you guys need something from a dangerous magical creature, right?" He questioned. "I might know a guy who can help out."

"Know a guy?" Hermione piped up from over Sirius' shoulder.

"Bullshit. I know everyone you do and I don't know anyone who would have that type of stuff." Remus twisted on the couch until he was up on his knees, leaning over the back on his elbows as he eyed his friend curiously.

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, my furry friend." Sirius clicked his tongue before winking at Remus. "Just don't stay up too late. I'll owl him in the morning before we pop on up to the highlands."

"Highlands?" Remus' brow furrowed for a moment, his brain racing through the possibilities of who this mysterious peddler of Magical creatures could be. "Who the bloody hell-Oh..." It was like a bulb went off in his head suddenly, jade green eyes flashing temporarily yellow at the thought of being so close to his old prowling grounds so close to the full moon. It was less than a week away and each day was becoming a bit harder to control the urges that presented themselves.

"Better rest up, Moony. Last time you saw him, he was a bit sore about you chasing the unicorns during our seventh year," Sirius teased, leaving his friend sitting on the couch to stew on the likely long-forgotten rift between himself and the keeper of the keys.

Shifting Hermione on his shoulder, he secured the petite witch before turning, albeit more careful of her this time. Moving down the hallway to his bedroom door, Sirius lifted his bare foot to push the door open before entering. Moving to the foot of his bed he let Hermione drop onto the springy mattress before waving his hand behind him to wandlessly shut the bedroom door.

Hermione laid flat on the mattress, her eyes closed as she smiled, taking in the familiar smell of Sirius. Leather, Tobacco and Cedar. Her favorite combination. She was here with a goal in mind, yes, but it wasn't like she could not take even the briefest of moments to enjoy being back with him, right? When she heard the sound of jeans and a tshirt hitting the hamper in the corner, she lifted herself up onto her elbows to look at Sirius who was walking across the bedroom towards his dresser, wand in hand.

"Do you really think Hagrid will be able to help us?" Hermione questioned, chocolate brown eyes drifting down his lithe frame, enjoying the way the soft light from the moon highlighted the expanses of his blemished skin. Sirius held his own scars, physical and emotional, just as she did, and perhaps that is why this worked. They were two broken pieces that just happened to fit together nearly perfectly.

"You know Hagrid?" Gray eyes flashed over to Hermione as he paused before his dresser, his hand still holding his wand hovering above the dresser's surface where he liked to store the wand when he slept. Of course she knew Hagrid, that should be far from a surprise, but the fact that their circles ran so close together, even twenty years apart still astounded him. "Asking him is worth a shot, isn't it? He's the only lunatic I know that would dabble in that sort of thing." Sirius set the wand down carefully before moving back to the bed, crawling up past her reclined form to slip under the thick red and gold comforter. "He told us once that the chimaera Kettleburn had was cute. Cute? Can you fucking believe that?"

"Of course I know Hagrid. And yes. Yes, I can. His reputation for thinking dangerous animals are charming was not something he grew out of, unfortunately." Hermione laughed, remembering far too well how upset Hagrid had been when Hermione informed him during their fifth year that studying a beast as dangerous as a chimaera would likely not be ideal for a group of teenagers. Lifting up her hips, Hermione unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down, letting the balled up denim hit the floor before she moved to crawl up the bed next to Sirius, who held open the comforter open for her to crawl in next to him.

Campfire smoke eyes ran up her exposed skin as Hermione settled next to him before removing her tshirt, leaving his witch in her panties and a bralette from earlier. Reaching out, his fingers raced across the soft lace strap of the brassiere along her shoulder blade. "Merlin, bless Muggles for their taste in undergarments," he muttered, letting his hungry gaze drop to watch his fingertips travel across the swell of her breast as he traced the outline of her undergarments.

Hermione swatted at his hand as it dipped between her breasts, his fingertips trailing softly against her sterun. "Keep your paws to yourself, Black," she joked. Reaching out she pulled comforter up to the middle of her chest and secured it in place under her arms before she laid back, her curls fanning out on the pillow.

Sirius laughed leaning back on his extended arm to look down at the tired witch beside him fondly. "Fine...but tomorrow morning I can do whatever I want," he bargained, his brows wagging at her in the darkness of his room.

"You just told Moony we had to get up and go Hogwarts, I doubt we have time for anything beyond showers and tea." Hermione lifted the back of her hand to her mouth to cover a incoming yawn.

"Now, now, Little Bird. There is _always_ time for a quicky," he joked, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her forehead as it wrinkled while she yawned. Easing himself down to lay on the bed next to her, one arm slipped beneath her pillow while the other went around her middle, gently pulling her body onto its side before he scooted closer to spoon her. "Besides, I'll give up tea if I have to."

Hermione smiled into the pillow, eyelids growing exceptionally heavy now that she was laying down, wrapped in the protective embrace of her boyfriend. "I won't," she lied. "I'm rubbish without it in the mornings."

"You'll manage for one day," Sirius teased, his voice soft as he fought to push the words through his own yawn. Nuzzling in, his nose brushed against the curls on the back of her neck as the penetrating scent of wild flowers and honey filled his sense. He had missed this. The feeling of her wrapped in his arms, her skin beneath his fingers. "I missed you, Hermione. Please say you're here for a while," he mumbled against the back of her neck, between pressing soft kisses against her skin.

"I missed you too Sirius." Hermione returned, her hand moving from the comforter to seek out his at her waist, their fingers lacing together. "I'm here for a while...probably longer than Remus would like."

"Yeah? How long?" His voice was lined with hope. The last time had been a month, and even thirty days did not seem long enough. He knew she had risked a lot to stay that long last time, but selfishly he prayed it was the same. If he could have another thirty days with her, then it would make waiting the next nineteen years a bit more bearable while he waited for her.

Hermione hesistated, her thumb brushing across the top of his knuckles gently. "Enough time to get the job done….I uh…I had some people help me get back this time. We agreed on another month, but I needed to give myself enough time to make sure I could complete the mission before I went back. If I don't it's not just me facing time in Azkaban. They could both end up in loads of trouble too…"

"Help? Wait… What do you mean, help getting back? Hermione, does the Ministry not know you're back here?" Pulling back he gently rolled her onto her back in his arms so they could look at one another in the darkened room.

Hermione's eyes cracked open slowly to look up at Sirius. As much as she knew this conversation needed to happen, she couldn't help but wish it was a occuring when she felt more alert. And preferably not swaddled in the comfort of his bed. "Well, if they don't know by now Malfoy did a good job at covering up the fact we took the Time-Turner from the Department of Mysteries.

Sirius' eyes went to the size of saucers and for a moment it was like the weight of the world blasted him in the center of his chest as he tried to wrap his head around her flippant confession of working with the enemy. "Y-You're working with fucking Lucius!?"

"Lucius? What?! Ew, no." Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Hermione shook her head, trying to physically wake herself up a bit more because it was becoming more apparent than not that the sleep deprivation (and alcohol) was not helping the time-difference related confusion. "I would never work with someone like him, gross. No, Draco helped me."

"...Draco?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. His son….I believe he's your second cousin?" she said skeptically. She had not spent much time in the room with the Black Family Tapestry, but from what she could remember, the Malfoy Family Tree and Black Family Tree had intertwined at one point.

"Narcissa reproduces with that fucking wanker?" Sirius questioned, cursing softly under his breath. That was fucking wonderful, just what the world needed, another perfect blonde Pureblood snot to fucking run around. His nose wrinkled at the thought, before the story seemed to replay in his head, and that only seemed to make him even more confused than previous. "...So a Malfoy helped a Muggleborn knick a Tea-Timer from the Ministry to come back and kill Voldemort. Lucius is a known and avid supporter of that bastard, why the fuck would his son help you?"

Hermione sighed, reaching up to rub her index and middle fingers along her brow, pressing on the pressure points to relieve some of the tension that had built over the day. "If you break it down that way, then yes. A Malfoy helped me get the Time-Turner from the Ministry so I can come back," she agreed. "But it is obviously a bit more complex than that simplification, Sirius."

"It always is, isn't it? You must be the most complicated witch I've ever fucking met," Sirius muttered, his hand going up to rub against the side of his face for a moment before he froze. Instantly he dropped both hands in his lap and he turned to face his girlfriend, worry penetrating his gaze. "Merlin, was he the boyfriend?!"

"M-Malfoy?!" Hermione laughed, not bothering to try and hide the insanity in his question. He was delusional if he thought she would ever date that ferret! Beyond that, even with the new, more agreeable Draco Malfoy, she was certain he would never lower himself to date someone 'at her status'. No, there would never be a Draco and Hermione romance, not even in any variation of timelines. That must she could be certain of. "No. Absolutely not. Never in a million years. You couldn't pay me enough Galleons to even consider that. He's...I guess a friend. I'm not really sure to be honest, it was all pretty confusing when I went back."

"Oh...okay good," Sirius breathed, looking visibly relieved by her adamant insistence that she did not date Lucius' kid. "You know, if you had I might have been forced to interfere with your childhood," he explained, huffing out a small laugh as he allowed himself to fall back on the bed next to her.

"Like you hadn't already planned on it," Hermione muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes. Glancing over to Sirius, she let a small yawn loose, her nose wrinkling. "Sirius, I am exhausted, can we finish this in the morning? You know, after tea….when I can think properly?"

"You mean after I shag you?" Ignoring her huffing in response to his correction, Sirius reached out and wrapped his hand around her shoulder, gently easing her back onto the bed and in his arms, tucking her carefully under his chin. "Fine, get some sleep, Little Bird."

Hermione smiled against his chest, her lips pressing a soft kiss into the hollow of his throat, smiling as the soft hair that smattered his chest brushed against her skin with each breath they took. She had missed so much about this wizard when she was back in her own time, but it was moments like this, where they were alone and he was not being rambunctious or silly. When they curled up at the end of the day and it almost felt like she was home, for the first time in years. Her heart so full, her skin warmed by his. This is what she missed the most. "I love you, Sirius," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of a large fan that had been blowing in the corner.

"I know," he replied, chuckling as he felt her bristle in his arms just slightly when he did not return the sentiment. "I love you too, Hermione." His hand rose from the mattress, petting the curls on the top of her head flat before he leaned down to press a soft kiss on her crown before tucking her back underneath his chin. His arms wrapped around her petite frame to hold her close as both found themselves giving into the day's exhaustion and drifting off to sleep wrapped in each others' embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there are a couple things I would like to address before I receive any hate for Hermione's reaction to Sirius' accusation of her dating Draco. Dramione is my OTP, but this is obviously not a Dramione story, and I feel like in this characterization of Hermione, she would never (ever ever ever) date Draco. They're two very different people in this universe. So please don't send me hate mail. :)
> 
> Also, I love to read all your reviews, theories, and kudos for this story! If you have not already seen, I published a very shot one shot that is within the Right The First Time universe that is a teenage Harmony! Check is out, it's called 'Sweet Sixteen'.
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to KnitKnitRead & Islandgurl777. I adore both of those ladies and they're friendship and encouragement is simply superb. I'd also like to thank Travelilah! She has been a reader from the beginning and I appreciate her encouragement, lovely reviews and talks! <3 
> 
> ~mm


	32. Unintended Morning Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains some scenes that could possibly be trigger worthy. Please see Author's Note at the end of chapter for details.

**August 31st, 1979 - Puddlemere - 08:00**

When daylight broke through the curtains in Sirius' bedroom, illuminating the darkened bedroom, Hermione was pulled from her slumber as the golden strands of sun kissed the soft skin on her cheeks good morning. No matter how comfortable she had been wrapped in Sirius' arms, the knowledge that today they would begin the search for finding a way to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes prevented her from falling back to sleep, nestled in thick cozy comforter and her boyfriend's embrace.

Slipping from the bed, Hermione moved cautiously, careful not to wake the sleeping wizard as she moved from the bedroom, her footsteps nearly silent on the squeaky floor. The bedroom door was left cracked just a hair, for she knew it would take a good thrust from her hip to seat the door into its home due to the moisture in the last summer air, which caused the door jams to swell just enough to be overly snug. It was the nature of the beast with these older homes, Hermione noticed. Well, that and the fact that young teenage men were not exactly keen on upkeep.

She moved to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to wash away yesterday and to tame the bird's nest on the top of her head. She could not help but smirk as she dragged her fingers through her freshly shampooed curls, nourishing the riotous ringlets with the floral conditioner that Remus despised so much. Thankfully the half-filled bottle from last time was still in the shower stall, and she had packed a fresh one before leaving Grimmauld Place. However, she knew it would not last her through her entire stay in 1979 and she silently dreaded having to find a comparable brand during this era, so she would take the wins of causing a little playful discomfort to the werewolf were she could.

Once clean, she twisted the taps until the water shut off, and as she exited the shower she wrapped a thick gray cotton towel around her middle before ringing out the excess moisture over the sink. Opening the medicine cabinet behind the small tarnished bathroom mirror, Hermione began to examine the various potion bottles, hair products and first aid supplies the two teens stored. As she began her search for a suitable product to put in her hair, her mind could not help but wander to the past she had left behind.

So much had changed when she went back last time due to Arthur's death, and she could not help but wonder how much would change when she returned. Would she and Harry still be exes, or would his romantic interest turn to someone else? Would Neville still have taken Ron's place? Hell, would the staff at Hogwarts even remain the same? With Voldemort gone, the curse on the Defense position would be broken and they would not have to recruit so much. And what about Professor Snape? With Lily and James still live, he would not find penance with Dumbledore. Where would he end up in this new future she was helping create?

As thoughts of what could be whirled the gears inside her brain, she carefully groomed her body. Using a beauty charm to shave and a drying charm to tame her brown curls into actual soft waves, she adjusted the towel around her torso as she glanced around the room. Damnit. Her backpack still lay in the living room just beyond the safety of the bathroom. Realistically she knew Remus and Sirius were both in bed so the risk of walking into either while in her current state of undress was slim to none, but it did not change the pulse-quickening effect it was having on her as she cracked open the bathroom door to poke her head out to make sure the coast was clear.

Moving out of the steamy bathroom, with one hand securing the towel around her while the other held her wand, she moved quickly around the couch to find the backpack laying on top of the coffee table, not far from the spot she had left it last night. She could only assume Remus, in his quick cleanup of their mess from last night, had picked up the bag off the floor, as the bottles that were once littering the carpet were neatly lining the kitchen counter in the outskirts of her vision. Unzipping the bag, Hermione quickly sought out a pair of knickers and bra and with a little adjusting she was able to slip them on without losing the towel around her, providing some modesty for herself should Remus decide to make his entrance in the living room.

Prying open the bag once her undergarments were worn, she began a slower search for the day's wardrobe as she took a seat on the couch, pulling the heavy backpack to her feet. When the bag hit the ground with a louder _thud_ than intended, Hermione bit her bottom lip, scolding herself for not lightening the load last night once Sirius and she had made it back into the flat.

Deciding on a pair of high-waisted blue jeans, Hermione withdrew them, shaking out the wrinkles the best she could before she slipped her feet into the pants, standing up and shedding the damp towel to pool around her toes as she buttoned the jeans that sat flat against her abdomen just below her navel. When she had first tried on a pair, back in December, she could distinctly remember thinking how unflattering the jeans made her feel, like something her mother would have worn. But now that time had progressed, she couldn't help but miss the attire of this era once back in 1999.

Sinking back down to the couch, she picked up the towel from the floor, waving her wand to send it back into the bathroom after a quick drying charm was performed, before she returned to the bag, digging through the small stack of t-shirts she had packed before withdrawing a plain black tank top. Two years ago she would have shied away from something that exposed so much of her blemished skin, but with time and age confidence followed. She was not proud of the meaning behind them; fuck, part of the reason she was here was to make sure no one else would have to face the blood prejudice she did. If she could only make one Muggleborn's life easier by eliminating the cult-like following that Voldemort had, then she could live the rest of her life happier. But she was not going to hide them any longer. People should not turn a blind eye to the disparity in the world, for when they did, evil was able to slip in.

As she moved to close the backpack, the silver zipper grasped between her thumb and index finger, brown eyes caught sight of a familiar gray cardigan tucked into the mix of her clothing. Reaching back into the bag she withdrew the oversized sweater, letting the soft cotton slide between her fingers as she lifted it out of bag, brown eyes dancing across the well-worn garment. The first time she had laid eyes on the sweater was during third year; the garment had already been well worn by then. A favorite piece in the limited wardrobe of Professor Lupin, she had admired the scholarly appearance the young professor held in it. The next several years were not kind to the soft fabric, for it had become heavy rotation in Tonks' own wardrobe. The oversized cardigan provided comfort for the grieving widow, who for several months did not dare take it off but to shower and wash it on occasion. Numerous pin-sized holes lined the cuff of each sleeve, and there was a small tear on the front pocket that had been crudely sew shut with zig zag stitching that would make Molly Weasley's eyes cross.

Lifting the sweater to her face, Hermione inhaled the soft fragrance of Tonks that still clung to the garment. Citrus and just a hint of earthy tones. Tonks smelt like sunshine felt against wind-bitten cheeks in spring. Happy, bubbly, full of life, and the familiarity of it all brought a wide smile to Hermione's lips as her eyes closed, the memories that she had shared with the witch replaying in her mind. From the beginning Tonks had been nothing short of kind to Hermione, not even knowing her beyond what the papers had written, and the Metamorphmagus was willing to risk her life for them. That coupled with the fact she spearheaded the highly illegal procurement of the Time-Turner so Hermione could return to 1979, having full knowledge of Hermione's very complicated relationship with her cousin, made Hermione long to do right by her promise. She could only hope that once this was over, the relationship she had built with the metamorphmagus would be there, and that Tonks would hold true to the promise that she had made Hermione; the promise of keeping Sirius and Remus out of trouble and alive.

Shaking her head at the thought of Tonks slipping the beloved cardigan into her backpack, Hermione slipped the soft cotton sweater on, the sleeves dwarfing her arms and ending somewhere around her waist. Chuckling, Hermione carefully rolled the sleeves up until it bunched around her elbows. Moving from the couch, she tucked her wand into her back pocket, letting it tap against her lower back as she made her way into the kitchen, the subtle of aroma of Tonks reminding her of the promise she made before she left.

Hermione carefully withdrew a white teapot from the cupboard, straining on the tips of her toes to pull it from the high shelf, and as she set it on the counter near the sink, her mind flashed back to the first breakfast she had shared with Remus in the flat, and his very vocal distaste for her strength of tea in the morning. Thinking better than to rely on a single pot, Hermione retrieved a blue floral pot before filling them both with water from the tap. Setting them on the counter, she lifted her wand from her pocket to tap it against the side of each pot as a soft heating charm was placed to boil the water inside. Under normal circumstances she would have used the kettle, but she did not want to wait the extra time it would take to boil the water on their stove. Besides, from the looks of it, it was in dire need of a good scrub down before it would be ready to use for human consumption.

As she moved around the kitchen, preparing the two pots of tea and the beginnings of a simple breakfast for herself and two of the Marauders, she did not noticed the soft creak of a bedroom door opening down the hall.

Sirius, still dressed in only in his boxers from the day before, walked down the hallway, still rubbing the sleep from his large gray eyes as he paused at the end of the hallway, watching his witch move about the kitchen, humming a soft tune that sounded oddly familiar. He could get used to this, waking up to her fluttering about his flat, and perhaps in whatever future she came back to fix, they could do this more than every couple of months. Perhaps, if things went right they could do this forever…. Shaking the thought away, Sirius pushed his fingers through the shaggy fringe of his hair. "Morning, Little Bird," he called out before beginning across the room to the kitchen, his voice thick with sleep.

Hermione jumped, nearly upending the floral teapot she had just put the lid on, and shouted in surprise. "Merlin, Sirius. How long have you been there?" she questioned, lifting her hand holding her wand to rest on her chest, feeling the heavy, adrenaline-filled rhythm thump away beneath her ribs.

The wizard chuckled as a slow grin split over his features. "Ya know, for an Auror, you're a bit of a jumpy thing," he teased. Moving into the kitchen at a slow pace, he reached for the witch, his index fingers hooking into the belt loops of her jeans as he eased her close. Their hips touched before the rest of their bodies in a slow hug, Sirius' nose brushing against the soft clean curls on the side of her head. "You should have woken me…. I believe I was promised a good morning quickie."

"I am not jumpy, I was just not expecting for you to be leering at me from across the room. It's not like we're out in the field… so I have a right to let my guard down for a bit," Hermione reasoned, palms resting against his bare chest between their bodies as she leaned into him. As she felt Sirius begin to place soft kisses along her neck and collarbone, Hermione giggled in response, purposefully tilting her head to cut off his assault. "And I promised no such things, ," she teased.

Sirius' hands moved along Hermione' waist, the oversized cardigan pooling against his arms as he began to attempt to untuck her top from her jeans. Hermione reached down, batting his hands away from her waist, and turned in his arms so her backside was facing him to prevent his advances. The joke was on her though, because as far as Sirius was concerned, he was happy with either side of her, just as long as it was her in his arms."You've been gone for months," Sirius whined, scooting closer until his hips pressed into her arse. His arms slipped around her waist until his hands could slip into the front pockets of her jeans, fingertips pressing into the soft skin of her hips through the pockets as he eased her back into him.

"We have things to do today, Sirius. You said so yourself," Hermione reminded him, eyes fluttering closed as she felt his lips press softly behind her ear. She wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him and spend the day wrapped up in bliss, but the reality was they had to figure out this first step in their mission. Finding the horcruxes was not going to be an easy task, but she had prior knowledge of where they had found them twenty years in the future. And as helpful as their information was going to be, it would be fruitless unless they were able to provide a way to destroy them.

Taking a deep shaky breath in an attempt to compose her resolve, Hermione cracked open her eyes and reached behind her, sliding her hand across Sirius' defined abdomen. She could feel his breath hitch, air filling his lungs to capacity in anticipation as her fingers moved closer towards his cock, which was beginning to swell beneath his boxers. Just as she was inches away from brushing her fingertips cross it, she changed course and withdrew her wand from her back pocket. " _Wingardium Leviosa._ " Her wand pointed directly at the pair of teapots that lay steeping down the counter from where Sirius had her trapped, and they rose slowly as soon as the incantation left her lips. With her wand guiding their direction, they moved down in front of her, settling with a soft clank against the linoleum.

Sirius groaned, his head dropping until his forehead was flat against her shoulder. "You minx," he scolded.

"I thought I was your Little Bird?" she teased. Her voice was sing-song in reply, doing little to hide the amusement she felt at the current state her boyfriend was in. It was his own damn fault, knowing full well they could not begin something, especially not in the kitchen where Remus could walk out and witness whatever depravity Sirius was so intent on.

As Hermione began to prepare two mugs of tea, one from each pot, the sound of Remus' door and heavy footsteps pulled the couple from their conversation. Hermione leaned forward slightly on the counter, watching as a rather underdressed Remus made his way into the living room, clearly intent on finding something. "Good morning, Remus," she called out.

Remus only grunted in response, not bothering to look up from his search around the living room. He had woken up nearly an hour ago when the pungent smell of floral overload wafted into his bedroom through the vents with the steam from her shower. He tried to bury himself in his sheets and pillows to prevent it from further invading his senses, but was powerless to its assault on him. He knew the curses of having a heightened sense of smell, but this, this was almost too fucking much.

As he laid in his bed, listening to the witch putter around the living room and kitchen, Remus half debated sneaking into Padfoot's room to wrap himself in the aroma of his friend by curling up in bed next to him, but he had a funny feeling the witch might not appreciate the two ex-lovers sharing an early morning embrace, no matter how platonic it was. It had been something the two had done long before they were intimate, and while she was away they had often crawled into each others' beds in the morning to avoiding starting their day. He was determined to make good on the unspoken promise of playing nice with her, and would give it a minimum of a week from her return before he decided to party crash on the little love fest they had going. Pending, of course, that he did not hear any carnal displays occuring.

Almost instantly, like a rogue wave breaking the predictability of the water's edge, Hermione's scent was replaced by something that sparked a desire in him he had never felt before; a desire so deep it felt almost unending. It was unbidden, the flames that ignited not only the beast inside him, but the man as well. Tainting his body, invading his bones. Remus had to find the source of it. The scent that made everything fade to black and become the least of his concern.

He had kicked out of the twisted sheets and comfort that trapped his legs and he moved quickly to his door, yanking it open, and his eyes fluttered closed as the intoxicating scent grew stronger. When they opened again, the mix of yellow had already begun to invade the calming waves of jade. Still wearing just a pair of tight navy boxer briefs that did little to hide his response to whatever pheromone hung in the air, Remus rooted through the living room, sniffing the air to find the source of whatever drew him from his bed quicker than ever before.

"You alright, Moony?" Sirius questioned, brows lifting in surprise as he watched his friend toss throw pillows over his shoulder. "You lose something, mate?"

Hermione's head cocked to the side as she watched Remus move like a freight train around the room, pausing occasionally to sniff at the air. The only thing he could have lost was his mind, because based on the lack of response and his behavior, Hermione was seconds away from flooing St. Mungo's. When he rounded the couch, heading towards the kitchen, her eyes widened when she realized he was not wearing pajama bottoms and the bulge in the front of his boxers was more prominent than she liked to admit. She looked down at the floor immediately, a soft blush creeping across her cheeks as she cleared her throat. "Uh…. Remus." Gulping, Hermione glanced up, too large brown eyes running across his torso. He was so different from Sirius, in more than one way, but specifically in his build. Where Sirius was lithe and lean, Remus held bulkier muscle, not doubt built from his years of transformations. Instead of milky pale skin, Remus was sunkissed from the tp of his head to the the tips of his toes. His tanned skin was littered with various shades of healing scars. Some pink, some tanned with the iridescent sheen of having been healed long ago, and just a couple were still reddish; too new to be anything but fresh. She knew she shouldn't look, knowing that Remus typically liked to hide under layers of clothing, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his body as he moved across the room.

"Where is it?" the werewolf questioned, frowning as he crossed the threshold into the living room. He knew it was in here; the smell was getting stronger. His hand rose, ruffling his sandy blonde hair as he glanced around the room, the hunger beginning to burst into an inferno inside him. He had to find it, he needed it. "Where is that smell coming from?"

Sirius withdrew his hands from Hermione's pockets, turning around as he watched his friend move to the oven and open to check inside. "Hermione's made some tea," Sirius said, gesturing behind him with his thumb out, before he snagged the poured mug off the counter. It might be sweeter than his friend liked, but hell, maybe it would snap him from whatever spell the impending full moon put him under. Moving over to Remus, who had now begun opening the cupboards in search of whatever the fuck the werewolf needed to find, Sirius reached out and put his hand on Remus' bare shoulder to gently tug him back. "Here, have a cup."

Turning towards his friend, Remus reached out for the cup, bringing it under his nose as he inhaled. No… it was definitely not that. He'd smelled Earl Grey before and this… This was much better than any fucking cup of tea. As Sirius moved closer to usher him from the kitchen, a waft of the same indescribable scent passed his way and he nearly dropped the mug. It was coming from him! Sirius' words were drowned out over the beating of his heart as Remus quickly set the mug on the countertop, causing it to slosh over the rim and spill onto his hands.

Remus moved quickly, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders and his face was pressed against his chest, the tip of his nose dragging across his chest as he inhaled deeply. His eyes closed as the waves of euphoria overtook him, for just a moment, before disappearing as the earthy tobacco scent that he knew to be his best friend lingered just beneath the surface. His nose wrinkled as the scent disappeared, his frown deepening before he dragged his nose to the other side of Sirius' bare chest, the soft hair smattered across it tickling slightly as he searched to find the source of the smell again. "Why do you smell like this? Sirius...Where is it from?" he questioned, drawing his nose up against Sirius' clavicle before dipping his tongue against the alabaster skin to see if he tasted as divine as he smelt.

"Whoa, Moony! What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing, mate!?" Gray eyes widened as he stumbled back, looking down at his friend, gobsmacked. His hands rose quickly, as if to display he was not touching the werewolf as he looked over his shoulder to Hermione. "He's never done this before...the full moon isn't even for five days," he tried to explain.

"It's not you," Remus mumbled, pulling back from his friend and as he did, he heard both Hermione and Sirius both inhale sharply. He knew even before they said anything; he could feel the change.

Remus' eyes were yellow. As bright as the sun and brilliant as gold. Hermione could swear they would glow in the dark in this very instance and when his gaze turned to her, she felt her skin line with goosebumps at the pure predatory look the usually calm man had. "Remus," she breathed out, reaching to pull the sweater tight around her middle as some sort of protection against whatever the fuck was happening. "Maybe you should go sit-"

As Hermione tightened the gray cardigan around her, and she gestured to the couches across the open room, Remus knew instantly where the source of the smell was coming from. "It's you!" He cut her off, pushing past Sirius quickly before the wizard could stop him and as he reached her, his hands grabbed onto her waist, pinning her back against the counter as he dove face-first into the side of her neck and shoulder. It was nirvana. He might never speak ill of her again if it meant she smelt like this for the rest of her time with him. His fingers curled against her hips almost bruisingly tight as he pressed against her more, his hips trying to seat themselves against hers so he could relieve some of the pressure that had built up.

Hermione must have looked like a deer in headlights, because for nearly a minute she was frozen, trying to process what exactly what happening. Clearly this display was having a similar effect on Sirius who stood, jaw dropped and brows raised, a few feet away from Remus and her with a look of pure puzzlement on his face. It wasn't until she could feel the effects of whatever scent Remus had picked up press against her that she snapped out of her astonishment. "Jesus Fucking CHRIST, Remus. What the fuck?!" Her hands moved to his chest, pressing as hard as she could against him so she might get away.

He was immovable, and when he felt her struggle, a small growl came from the back of his throat. Moony was warning her, even when the rational part of his brain knew better. "Hermione," he growled, fingers digging further into her hips as his face dropped down her torso more, his nose brushing the tops of her cardigan-covered breasts.

Sirius moved quickly across the room as he watched his best mate grind himself against his girlfriend, and despite knowing this was clearly an involuntary reaction from the lycanthrophy, he couldn't help but feel jealous rage rear its ugly head inside him. Grabbing ahold of his shoulder, Sirius yanked him away from Hermione, body checking him against the countertop with his arm bared against his chest as he held the struggling wizard back. "Remus! What the bloody fuck?!"

Hermione moved quickly once Remus' hold on her was released and she ran from the kitchen and around the countertop until there were was a physical separation between herself and the men. Her hand rose, rubbing the sleeve of her cardigan against her neck and chest to remove the invisible trail left behind by the overly enthusiastic werewolf. As she watched Sirius struggle to subdue Remus, who was trying to break free of the hold, her mind swirled with confusion. She had never seen him act like this before, even when transforming before her eyes in third year; he had never been so roguish. "Has he ever done this before?"

"This?" Sirius returned, gritting his teeth as he struggling to keep the werewolf pinned to the counter. "No, Remus has never gone this daft before. Closest any of us has ever been this crazed is when Pete drank some Amortentia on a dare fifth year."

Amortenia? No, he'd come out of the bedroom in this state, it couldn't be a bloody love potion. Hermione shook her head, looking down at her sweater-covered hands and suddenly, as if hit by lightning, it all made sense. Before she could stop herself, her hand lifted to her lips as she let out a heavy string of laughter.

Sirius' head snapped quickly to look at Hermione who was overcome with a fit of giggles and his brow knitted. "Well I'm right happy that this is funny to you. How about you grab my fucking wand from my room so we can restrain him!"

"Let me GO! Padfoot, you can't keep me from her. She's mine… She's supposed to be MINE," Remus growled, shoving roughly at the wizard.

Of course! Of fucking course! This is why she put the damned thing in there, it wasn't for Hermione…. It was for HIM. "It's not me he wants, Sirius… It's my sweater." Slipping the cardigan off her shoulders, Hermione quickly balled up the well-worn fabric before tossing it across the countertop best she could.

"Your sweater?" Sirius questioned in disbelief. He was seconds away from letting her know this when Remus and Sirius were both smacked in the face with the gray garment and almost instantly Remus ceased fighting.

His hands curled around the fabric, and Remus buried his face in the heady aroma, and as it masked the world around him, he felt the need to pulverize Sirius for preventing him from capturing it disappear. He had it… This was it. The source of his happiness. The one thing that could possibly cure every misery he had in the world.

"Yes, my sweater. Err… Well not technically _my_ sweater, but…" Hermione laughed, shaking her head as she watched the werewolf sink to the floor as he leaned back against the cabinet, busying himself with rubbing it against his neck and chest. She had read about the desire for werewolves to scent themselves with their mate's smell before, but she had never seen it.

"What's on this? Why… Why does it smell so….so.." Remus struggled with his words, yellow eyes glancing between the flushed faces of Sirius and Hermione.

"So familiar?" Hermione offered as she moved around to the kitchen entrance, cautious with each step she took. When he nodded in agreement, Hermione felt another laugh bubble up. "Well, Remus… That's because that sweater was placed in my bag by your mate."

"... His what?!"

"My mate!?"

"His mate…. Your mate. She put it in my bag when I was packing and I didn't realize until today. I thought she had gifted it to me, but…. Obviously not," Hermione remarked, gesturing to the way Remus was absentmindedly rubbing his cheek against the soft cotton. "She's a smart witch, and likely knew it would drive you wild."

"She?!" Remus questioned, his eyes going wide and instantly the yellow began to retreat from his eyes, swirling into the black of his pupils as he tried to fathom that idea that his mate was actually out there, in the future, and he had a chance to be with them, but also that his mate was female.

"Then why would you wear it?" Sirius questioned, ignoring Remus' question, moving until he placed himself between Remus and Hermione, putting himself in a prime position to stop Remus should he feel like getting fresh with his girlfriend again.

Hermione snorted. "I obviously did not know, or else I would have immediately handed it over," she replied, glancing down to Remus and offering him a small shrug. "No offense, and yes, she."

"But...but I don't date women," Remus stammered, glancing up to Hermione who had begun to laugh at his response.

"Oh Remus…. Her gender is going to be the least of your concerns when you meet her." Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying her best to maintain her composure, but after the whirlwind morning she had just had, she could feel her willpower cracking.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Sirius piped up, lifting his brow at his girlfriend. "She a handful or something?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings** in this chapter Remus gropes both Sirius & Hermione while under the influence of his mates scent. This might make some people uncomfortable. if this might trigger you, I would suggest skipping this chapter.
> 
> This chapter got completed a lot earlier than anticipated. Mainly because I had a lot of fun writing it. This idea has been floating around in my head for weeks, and I knew it had to happen. Of course, Padfoot'smyman(FFN) is obviously on the same wave length as me and knew this had to happen as well. Because of that, I am dedicating this laughable chapter to you, my dearest reader! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!
> 
> I am hoping to have the next chapter for you all by sometime this weekend, but we will seem. I have it pretty well mapped out and just need to put pen to paper (so to speak) and make it happen.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this and are excited to see the story progress! As always, I adore you all and look forward to every review left. *muah!* ~ mm


	33. The Hut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.
> 
> Note: Writing Hagrid is fucking hard. Please know that as try as I might, I could not prefect him (and for those you can, bless you).

**August 31st, 1979 - Hogwarts - 12:00**

The late summer breeze rustled the dried grass that lined either side of the well worn path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. After the awkward encounter in the kitchen, the trio got ready for the rest of their day in silence. Remus kept his eyes low, and purposefully avoided eye contact unless absolutely necessary.

Hermione was eager to side with Remus' resolution to act like the morning encounter never happened; however, Sirius was not inclined to follow this line of thinking (much to neither of their surprise).

"I got a free hand, Moony, if you want to hold it," Sirius offered, smugly walking behind his friend who was blazing the well worn trail ahead of them. His other hand laced with Hermione's as they walked behind the werewolf who trying to evade Sirius' teasing.

"Fuck off, Padfoot," Remus grumbled, shoving his hands further into the front pockets of his brown trousers.

"Or you can hold Hermione's. I won't be sore. I mean you already rubbed your dick on her-"

"Sirius!" Hermione gasped, her curls slapping against her cheek as she snapped her head to look up at him, aghast.

"I said fuck off, Pads!" Remus quipped at the same time, shooting him a heated glance over his shoulder before looking away from the couple quickly, purposefully not making eye contact with Hermione.

"Aw. Come on, Mate. In the future you fancy a lady. Might want to start practicing how to woo the fairer sex." Sirius snickered, gray eyes dancing in malicious delight as his friend gave him a two finger salute, the werewolf not even bothering to look back at Sirius as he doubletimed his steps to place enough distance between himself and the couple behind him.

Slipping her hand from Sirius, Hermione jammed her elbow into his ribs with a quick motion, leaving the wizard stuck between a cough and gasp as he recoiled from her. "You need to ease up on him, Sirius," Hermione scolded, her lips pursing together in an expression eerily similar to the one Lily often gave their group of friends.

"Don't get me wrong, Little Bird. While I am all for you two crossing the line from enemies to friends, when that territory drifts to lovers, even if it was induced by a strategically placed sweater, it is my right to give him a hard time," Sirius began, fingers rubbing the ache in his side through his gray t shirt. "Besides, why are you even defending him? He was a right shit to you up until two days ago," he reminded her. While he was not opposed to the idea of Hermione and Remus being friendly (hell it would make his life a lot easier), he would be the first to admit that her sticking up for his sulking friend was a bit much, even for her.

Hermione shrugged, glancing up the road to Remus as she bit her bottom lip before back to Sirius, letting the toe of her boot kick a small rock up the path in her next stride. "He's still your friend, and at one point he was mine too," she offered the best explanation she could muster. It was the truth. When she knew Remus, before this, he had been a friend. Her loyalty to him was not going to wane just because he was a bit of a prick in his youth. Hell, when he first met her she was far from being the woman she was today, and if he liked her despite her flaws of youth, well she could forgive him. "Though, it should not matter why I am defending him; he is your friend. Best friend even! You need to be kinder to him. You know he did not mean to...do what he did. I doubt very much he would have been eager to act that way, especially towards me. And he is clearly not taking the news of having a female mate well."

Sirius smirked, campfire smoke eyes glittering as he watched Hermione reprimand him. It was endearing, watching her defend the fallen and broken. Like some sort of social crusader for the under represented. "You do know he is wearing the cardigan under his jacket, don't you?" Sirius asked, clearly amused by this tidbit of information.

"Sirius! Did you hear anything I just said?!"

"Okay… okay fine," he conceded, his hands going up in the universal sign for surrender. "I'll be _kinder_ to him."

"And you'll stop bringing up the sweater situation."

Sirius paused a moment, biting his tongue that was moistening his lips as he weighed out the consequences of not agreeing to her terms, and when her eyes widened at him in disbelief, he fell into a fit of laughter. "Alright fine… fine. I will not bring up the 'sweater situation', but you owe me, Little Bird." Reaching out, he pulled her to him so he could drape his arm around her shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Your attempts to make me a better man are going to be fruitless, you know?" he joked.

Hermione's arm snaked around his waist, sliding her palm into his back pocket as they walked down the dirt road. "Oh, I'm not trying to make you a better man, Sirius." Hermione glanced up to him, brown eyes locking of his for a brief moment before she looked forward once more, watching Remus crest the hill to the castle grounds. "I'm trying to show you that you're already a great one."

Sirius could do little to suppress his smile at her words, the feeling of warmth washing over him as her praise played in his mind on repeat. Without even meaning to, she had assured him that his fears of ending up like his family were all for nothing. Because if she would love him, and think he was a great man, then maybe, just maybe, the years of self doubt he had were all for nothing. His fingers curled around her shoulder as he tugged her closer to him beneath his arm until their hips brushed against one another. She was everything Sirius never knew he was missing from his life. His silver lining, and he was going to be damned if he let her slip away again, and if that meant he would have to lay off teasing Remus while she was round, so be it.

Remus waited at the top of the hill for Hermione and Sirius to catch up, his right hand lifted to mouth so he could rub the cuff of the gray cardigan that was hidden beneath his zip up hoodie against his bottom lip, letting the scent of his mate calm his nerves. As the couple grew closer, jade green eyes flashed in their direction. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Hagrid's a friend, I don't want him mixed up in this."

"I hate to break it to you, Moony, but he's already mixed up in this," Sirius reminded his friend, carefully unlinking his arm from around his girlfriend and moving to in front of his friend, his hand coming up to cup his stubbled cheek. He knew Remus was not having a hard time with asking Hagrid for his assistance procuring a Basilisk fang, but rather being this close to the Forbidden Forest during the week leading up to the full moon.

The forest held many fun memories for the group of boys. It was there that Remus realised his friends' devotion to him. And while those were happy memories, it also held memories of his first time with Sirius. His first kiss, his first time with a man, and even the first time he realised he was in love with his best friend. And while equally happy, they also held mixed emotions. Especially now, after catching the scent of his….his mate, a word which felt so foreign on his tongue. These memories stirred feelings that made his heart ache with betrayal for a woman he had never even met.

Sirius rubbed his thumb across the soft stubbled jaw of Remus, giving him a sympathetic smile as the afternoon breeze whipped his hair around his face. "You don't have to go, Moons. We got this if you want to hang back," he offered in a whisper.

Remus' hand rose to cup over Sirius, fingers slipping between his friends to give a soft squeeze. "I know. I'm not going because I have to… I'm going because I want to." He began to explain, "You're my friend, so if you're hitching your wagon to a witch from the future who knows far more than she should...well I guess that means I have to stick around to make sure you don't do anything too stupid."

Sirius' laugh traveled with the soft breeze, his nose wrinkling, as it tended to do when he was more immersed in the moment than to care how charming his laugh looked. "Hitching my wagon? Merlin, how old do you think you are Moony?"

Remus carefully pulled Sirius' hand away from his cheek, and at the wizard's question he pulled his hand away, smirking. "Old enough to know that if I send you to Hagrid's without proper supervision you'll come home with a stray animal courtesy of your bleeding heart and Hagrid's overzealous desire to save everything."

"Okay, first off. It was _one_ Mooncalf, not a Hippogriff," Sirius defended. "AND it was fifth year. I was going through a phase."

"A phase?" Hermione questioned. She didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but it was not like she had anywhere else she could turn her attention. "What kind of phase?"

"The kind where you start shagging anything that walks and develop tendencies to try and save everyone and everything," Remus supplied as he looked over his shoulder to Hermione.

"Oh, so he never outgrew it?" Hermione questioned which earned a loud laugh from Remus. Despite their rocky beginnings, it was clear that he was starting to warm up to her.

"Ha-ha, very funny." Sirius tossed his arms in the air momentarily before glancing between the two. "It's one thing to be teased by my friend, but entirely another to be by my girlfriend," he complained.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and it only took one look, and a playful wink from Remus for her to catch on to his wavelength on what to do next. Moving across the top of the grassy knoll, she made like she was going to wrap her arms around Sirius' waist, but a split second before she made it to him, she dodged his open arms and slipped an arm through Remus' awaiting one. "Okay… then I'll date him now," she explained matter of factly over her shoulder as Remus began to escort her over the crest of the hill.

Sirius' stood frozen for a moment, watching Hermione and Remus move away from him, and for a split second he might have questioned what the hell was going on, but as soon as he caught sight of Hermione giving him an impish glance over her shoulder, a wide smile broke across his face. They were going to torture him, and likely regret his push to make them friends. Double-stepping after them, heavy boots beat a steady rhythm on the dirt floor as he caught up to the pair and he draped his arm across Hermione's shoulders, leaning over her head to ruffle Remus' hair with his other hand. "I told you you'd like her one day."

Despite his attempt to keep a cool exterior, when he cast a side glance to his friend and the witch on his arm, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah…. She's alright I guess."

Hermione slipped her free arm around Sirius' waist, her index finger hooking into his belt loop on his hip, and at Remus' glowing praise, she rolled her eyes. As the trio moved down the dirt road toward the castle grounds, Hermione could not help but feel inklings of familiarity with the scene. Except last time she had made this journey she was sandwiched between Ron and Harry.

As the castle peaks made their way into view, she felt an warmth wash over her. This place had been her home for nearly seven years. The best moments of her childhood happened behind the doors, but the worst as well. While in this present, her time at Hogwarts was still many years away, and the potential for it to be changed for the better was literally looming with her succeeding. Her breath hitched in her throat and she let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of this burden for the first time in a while. Although as soon as its crushing vortex swirled around her mind, ready to consume her, she felt Sirius' arm tighten its hold on her shoulders, as if he sensed her anxiety, and Remus straightened, standing just a hair taller than before, and it was then she realised she was not going about this alone. She had Sirius and Remus, just like she had had Harry and Ronald, and almost as suddenly as the feeling of dread invaded her mind, it began to slip away.

As the small group made their way from the dirt path to the green grassy fields that surrounded the castle, Hermione unlooped her arms with the men on either side of her, letting them trail ahead as she looked across the grounds, taking in the familiarity but also the changes. The Quidditch pitch was still off to the right, but the colorful banners that graced the stands separating the four houses were not draped across the wooden towers, but rather the house colors were represented by hanging garland in the front and back row of each stand. From this vantage point she could also see the empty castle courtyard. Students were one day away from beginning their journey to Hogwarts, which meant the Professors were likely tucked away inside making the finishing touches on their lesson plans for the year.

Hermione bit her bottom lip as they edged closer to Hagrid's hut. It looked exactly the same as it had when she had seen it last, with the exception of the shingles containing far less moss than they had when she had glimpsed it last. From the chimney thick puffs of white smoke billowed out, letting them know that the possibility of the groundskeeper being home was likely.

As Sirius took the small flight of stairs to the aged wooden two door at a time to deliver a quick rap upon it, Hermione opened her mouth to warn him he ought remove himself from the first landing unless he liked a face foot of dog slobber, but when no booming bark could be heard as the sound of heavy footsteps from inside drew closer to the door, she remembered that they were still several years too early for the canine companion to be here.

"Gimme a minute," came the booming voice of Hagrid from inside the cabin, followed by the sound of what one could only assume was furniture scraping across the floor.

Remus was paused on the second step, his foot tapping a nervous rhythm as he waited behind Sirius. "Hagrid's a… bit of an eccentric," he explained, glancing down to Hermione who leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of the half-giant through the mismatched colored window panes. "But he means well."

Hermione smirked as she slid her hands into her back pocket. That was one way someone could describe him. She would rather choose loyal, trustworthy, and a heart of gold. He had saved Harry, Ronald and her on more than one occasion, and passed information on to them (albeit sometimes unintentionally) when the other adults in their lives had not trusted them with the details. "I know," she laughed, biting her bottom lip to keep the sound muffled as much as possible. "If you think a Mooncalf is bad, remind me to tell you about the time he hatched a dragon my first year."

"A dragon?!" Remus hissed, eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"A Norwegian Ridgeback," she explained, and as they heard (and felt) the footsteps close in on the front door she reached up to straighten her top. First impressions, even if they were only first for half of the people involved, still mattered, right?

The door swung open to reveal Hagrid, who looked very much the same as he had previously, and the smell of freshly baked sweets, stale ale and fresh soil. "Sirius! What'er you doing here?" The half-giant beamed and before Sirius could respond he was yanked across the threshold of the hut into a crushing embrace.

Sirius' face smashed against the center of Hagrid's chest, getting a mouthful of beard and loose flour that was coating his friend's shirt. "Moony and I came for a visit." He returned the hug, his arms barely able to get halfway around the man, and as he peeled himself out of the half-giant's embrace he slipped into the cabin to allow room for Hermione and Remus to follow. "How have you been?"

"The same, I suppose," Hagrid returned, his toothy grin stretching from ear to ear across his face. "Remus, you look tip top. I heard you a bit of a nasty patch there for a bit. Just stay out of the forest while you're here, yah? Took me months to get the unicorns to trust me again." Reaching out he pulled Remus up from the second step, quite literally lifting the sandy haired wizard into a crushing embrace.

"Not...a….problem," Remus managed through wheezing breaths, his hand patting at Hagrid's shoulder until the man released him and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Aye, who might you be?" Hagrid questioned, bushy brows raising a bit as he watched Hermione fidget nervously on the dirt floor before the steps.

"Hermione Granger," she supplied the half-giant before moving up the wooden steps with her hand outstretched for a shake. Her heart soared as she moved closer to the hut's threshold. Just behind the hulking form of one of her oldest friends she could make out the homespun belongings and furniture that had clearly been with Hagrid for far longer than her time with him. "I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure."

"She's my girlfriend, Hagrid," Sirius called from inside the hut, hidden behind a large pillar.

"Girlfriend?" Hagrid repeated, nodding his head in approval and when his massive hand enveloped Hermione's he pulled her into his arms like he had the two Marauders before her. "Any lady friend of Sirius is welcome. Nice ta meetcha, Hermione," he drawled, giving her a small squeeze that lifted her off the ground for a moment before setting her down and patting her shoulders with a twinkle in his deep brown eyes.

Ushering the witch inside, Hagrid shut the heavy wooden door with a loud thud before turning around, swinging his arm to gesture for Hermione to join Sirius and Remus at the rickety table in the corner of the room beyond his kitchen. "You should have owl'd me. I'm not presentable. Doing a bit of baking before term tomorrow. I know how the first years luv me rock cakes," Hagrid explained as he moved across the room towards the tiny kitchen.

His countertops were lined with white flour, egg shells, and various cooking ingredients and it appeared that half of whatever had been used to make the batter was also dribbled down the front of his shirt and trousers. Ducking beneath a thick beam, Hagrid scooted into the kitchen, bending low to pull out a pan of well-baked cakes from the oven. Sliding them off of the pan unceremoniously into a flannel-lined wicker basket, a couple tumbled onto the gummy surface of the countertop. "What brings you all here? Come to visit Dumbledore?" Hagrid questioned as he tossed the pan on top of his stovetop with a clang before picking up the piping hot cakes and smearing the goop along them in an attempt to clean them from the flour/egg/milk mixture on the counters before tossing them into the basket.

"Actually, we've come to visit you." Sirius smiled, tipping his head back as he watched

Moving to the table, he pulled back the largest chair, which had been left vacant purposefully since it was the only one that fit Hagrid properly, and as he sat down he deposited the basket of warm rock cakes in the center of the table. "Me? Whatcha need from me?"

"We are in need of your expertise. Order business." Sirius explained and when the wicker basket was tipped in his direction, he offered a half smile to Hagrid before shaking his head no. "Big breakfast."

As the basket was then offered to Remus, he held up his hands quickly and shook his head. "Same...I'm absolutely stuffed still." He knew from personal experience that those cakes were hard as rocks, and even if you did manage to chew one up without cracking a molar, there was the fact that they sat in the pit of your stomach for what felt like the better part of a week.

When the basket was turned to Hermione, she reached out without hesitation to pluck a raisin flavored rock cake from the top of the pile. "Thank you, they smell delicious," she said as she set the cake on the napkin in front of her and began to crumble the confection into more manageable pieces.

"Uh… Hermione, didn't you just tell me you were still full from breakfast before we walked up?" Sirius said quickly, gray eyes dancing between the muffin and her face, and when Hagrid looked away to reach behind him to grab a kettle of water for tea, Sirius quickly shook his head no while pointing to the muffin and mouthing 'DON'T.'

"Oh no, I'm good. Didn't gorge myself like you two," she replied before popping a piece of the crumbly fruitcake in her mouth. She knew that the baked confection was nearly dangerous, but she couldn't help it. Even in her youth she would take a cake without hesitation, because she didn't have the heart to tell him no. As she crunched her way through the cake, she was careful to run her tongue across her molars on occasion, just to make sure there were no casualties.

"Ah..I like this one, Sirius. She's better than the other ones you bring by," Hagrid complimented as he began to pour four cups of tea. Ever the gracious host, Hagrid had always made sure those who visited his home were fed before leaving.

"Other ones? Oh I'd like to hear more-" Hermione began but was abruptly cut off by Sirius, who was going to have none of her prying deeper into his youth, at least not right now. And especially not about the various girls he would bring by Hagrid's while they watched for the sky to darken so they could wander off to the Quidditch Pitch for a romantic dinner under the stars (Sirius' signature move).

"Like I was saying. Order business!" Sirius explained hastily, shooting a hard glare over at Remus who was trying to hide his laughter under a well placed cough. "We are looking for something that might be a bit illegal," Sirius began to explain, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his neck as he reclined.

"Illegal?" Hagrid repeated back hesitantly, dark brown eyes shifting between the trio seated around him, and his hand rose to smooth that scruffy hairs on his lengthy beard. "What are we talking about here? I'm not the person you ought to be askin' 'bout illegal things. Mundungus might be better."

"Fuck Dung," Remus breathed out, his hand still in front of his mouth as he chewed on his nail. Jade green eyes cast up when he heard Hagrid clear his throat disapprovingly and he sighed, dropping his hands to his lap. "Mundungus is… not capable of finding the type of artefact we are needing."

"If Mundungus can't find it, I'm not sure I want to know what you're looking fer."

"We're looking for an artefact from a creature….a magical creature, and I've heard you might have some connections within that world," Hermione spoke up before lifting the mug of warm tea to her lips. She watched as Hagrid weighed out whether her supposed hearsay of him dabbling with magical creatures should be taken as a compliment or not.

"She's with The Order?" Hagrid questioned, glancing over to Sirius and Remus who gave a silent nod, his ring finger twirling a thatch of salt and pepper beard around. "I might have made some friends over the years," he obliged, his chest puffing up with a small swell of pride at his statement. "What are ye looking for?"

Hermione set her chipped teacup down on the table, carefully lining up the cup on the small saucer as she look pause before glancing up to Sirius through her thick brown eyelashes before over to Remus, noting that neither were eager to be the one to pull the trigger. Of course, that meant she would be the one to do it. In this timeline she did not have any sort of friendship with Hagrid, at least not yet, which meant this question would likely test the limits on comfortability, because they weren't talking about some Ashwinder eggs that might have fallen off the back of a wagon. They were looking for a highly illegal and rare artefact that even the most daring black market dealers would shy away from. Well, it was now or never, right? "We need a Basilisk Fang."

The curiosity that had colored his expression instantly vanished at her works and his hands froze on the table and for several moments he looked at Hermione with an almost vacant expression as he tried to process the request. "A Basilisk Fang…. Blimey, I might deal with the occasional creatures dealer, but…" His head shook. "I don't run in circles with the sorts who have the sort of stuff."

"But you know those circles exist?" Sirius pressed.

"Well, there's certainly a market for everything….you dunn want to go messing with those sorts of folk, Sirius. Those are bad wizards. The same as we are tryin' ta stop," the half-giant explained, and as he pushed up from the table the heavy wooden chair scraped against the marred floor of his hut. Turning, he began towards the front door of the hut, footsteps heavy as he moved to ask the trio to leave. "If yer needin' that, I'm afraid I can't be much help….and if Dumbledore knew you lot were lookin' fer something as dangerous as that...well I'm not sure he'd allow it."

"But we need it to stop those wizards!" Remus added quickly. "Hagrid...Hermione's found a way to stop them… but in order to do so, we need a fang."

Hagrid's large hand rested on the doorknob, covered the entire brass fixture in his palm. "Is it true? You know how to stop them?" Peering over his brawny shoulder, mixed between the fear in his eyes also sparkled just the hint of hope.

Hermione nodded, moving up from her rickety chair and across the door until she stood beside him at the door. "I do... Hagrid, I know what we are asking for is not exactly easy to find, but I also know you might be our only shot at finding it," she began, reaching out to lay a small hand on his arm. "You're right, Dumbledore does not know we are looking for this, but I do know he is the smartest Wizard I have ever known. I think it would be highly illogical to assume he was not on the same path we are. We're just…. taking matters into our own hands before anyone else gets hurt."

Sirius and Remus both hung back by the table, watching as Hagrid turned to face Hermione, his massive frame nearly triple her own, and when he reached out to place his two large hands on her shoulders, the floorboards creaked a little beneath Hermione.

"If I do... get this fer ya, you need ta promise it won't go fallin' in the wrong hands. Ya need ta swear it."

"I swear it," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper and when he nodded at her words the corners of her mouth tugged up just slightly. Leaning forward she wrapped her arms around his middle, her face flat against his round belly as she leaned into him. "Thank you, Hagrid." What they were asking for meant his well being could possibly be put in danger, and once again, Hagrid, the gentle giant who loved creatures as wild as Dragons down to Flobberworms just the same, was willing to take that risk because he believed so deeply that the world needed to be a better place. Hermione knew very few people whose hearts were as pure as Hagrid's, and she considered herself lucky to be his friend (in the future).

The apples of Hagrid's cheeks crimsoned just the slightest at Hermione's hug and he reached down, gently patting her back. "Alright. Alright. I made no promises." Once freed from Hermione's embrace, he pulled open the heavy wooden door, letting the warm late summer breeze into the hut. "I'll owl you if I find it, so don't be runnin' off on orders anytime soon. I dun wanna hold onto somethin' like that. Not at Hogwarts. The school dun need that fallin' into students' hands."

"Of course. We'll stay put for a tick," Sirius promised as he moved behind Hermione as she made her exit down the set of wooden stairs. When he reached the dirt path, Hagrid called out to him once more, leaning on the doorframe after ushering Remus out. "Yeah?"

"When you come back, you bring her again…. and that motorbike," he told the young wizard, a cheeky grin spreading across his barely visible lips through the bushy black beard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long! I am in my last two weeks of college courses (WOOHOO) and then I managed to caught my first illness of the season. I hope you enjoy it. <3


	34. Thrice Defied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**August 31st, 1979 - Godric's Hollow - 15:00**

"Since they're not here to stop us," Sirius murmured against the skin on Hermione's neck, his mouth dragging up to her delicate jawline as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against her skin. "We could go test out the mattress in the guest room again."

The pair were standing in the living room in the Potter home. Hermione had been standing at table that sat behind the couch, flipping idly through a photo album containing pictures from the Marauders' time at Hogwarts when he made his plan of attack. They had been waiting for Lily and James for nearly an hour, and Remus had finally succumbed to his grumbling tummy and moved into the kitchen to begin dinner.

Hermione smiled, tilting her head to the side to allow him more access to her skin, and when his fingers curled around the strap of her tank top and pulled it off her shoulder so he could kiss more skin, she shivered. "Sirius," his name tumbled off her lips in a soft moan. When his teeth scraped against the star-shaped scar, she shivered. "We can't…. They're supposed to be here soon, remember."

Sirius grumbled in response, knowing she was right but damnit if it did not make it any easier. His hands slid down her body, traveling from shoulders, over the sides of her breasts and carefully down to her waist when he eased her back against him more so his obvious arousal for her could press against her lower back. "I'll be quick," he promised in a heavy breath before nipping at the shell of her ear.

She knew that her resolve was wavering; the knowledge of what that wizard could do, even in a short amount of time, pooled heat between her thighs faster than he could unlock the bedroom door. But she also knew that if James and Lily did happen to show up mid-shag, then James would likely never let her hear the end of it. At least not while she was still in 1979. No, she needed to stay clothed and sober. Especially if they were going to ask for his help on procuring the Diary from his cousin's home. James, although hot-headed himself, did have a way of keeping Sirius from becoming too foolish when he came to dealings with his family members.

Her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips before she reached down to pry his hands from her waist so she could slip free from his hold. Carefully unwinding his arms from her, she pulled away from Sirius. "We aren't going to shag in your friends' house, Sirius." Regaining her composure as she backed away from the now pouting wizard, she carefully smoothed out her clothing, and tempered her curls best she could.

"Now, Hermione." Turning around so he leaned against the table, his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed his witch. "Let us be reasonable about this. Moony is busy making dinner, Lily and Prongs are out on a mission that ran a wee bit long. They could be gone for several more hours. We really would just be utilizing our time properly," he explained.

Hermione snorted. Did he just try to logic his way into her knickers? "Do you really want me to list the reasons why we aren't going to have a go at it in the guest room or will you just accept that I'm not changing my mind?"

"There is clearly no reason we shouldn't."

"One, it's not your flat and might be a tad rude. I know we shagged here before but circumstances were a bit different. Two, Remus is in the kitchen; Werewolf hearing. He'd know exactly what we were doing," Hermione began, using her fingers to count as she went.

"He'd know even if he wasn't a werewolf," Sirius smirked, wagging his brows.

She rolled her eyes in response. What was it with men and boasting their sexual prowess? Was it biologically built in or did they grow this arrogance over time? "Third, you might be better off if you had no luck instead of bad luck, because our track record of being walked in on by James is rather high, don't you think?"

"You're worried about Prongs? Naw. He enjoys it. Says I got a great arse."

"Sirius," she said sternly, her hands going to her hips as she gave him a look reminiscent of the one she had seen McGonagall give the Weasley twins when they were being particularly difficult, and when he responded by tipping his head back with a particularly dramatic eye roll, she spun on her heels, beginning to walk towards the kitchen. She could hear him follow her, his heavy boots thumping along the wood flooring as she entered the kitchen to be greeted to the sight of Remus standing in front of the stovetop. A large pan sizzled with a mixture of onions, garlic and butter as he used a wooden spatula to push the beginnings of his dish around the pan.

Remus glanced over his shoulder towards the pair with an amused expression tugging at the corners of his lips. "She's right you know," he teased before looking back to the pan in front of him, and with a small wave of his wand,picked up off the counter next to him, a bowl of mushrooms floated across the room towards him.

"Of course she is, but that does not mean I can't try," Sirius grumbled before plopping himself down at the small table opposite of where Remus was cooking. He leaned back on the chair, kicking his boots on up on table as he reclined back. "Where did Prongs say they were going tonight anyways?"

"Stake-out in West End." Remus poured the mushroom into the sizzling pan before adding two jars of tomato sauce. Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his wand and set a charm to make the wooden spatula stir the mixture slowly around the pan.

"West End?" Sirius questioned, brows furrowing as he looked up from his fixation on twirling his wand between his fingers like a baton.

"Muggle London," Hermione explained as she poured herself a glass of Elven wine from a bottle Remus was using to cook with. Filling the stemware three fingers full she turned around to lean against the counter before taking a small sip of the enchanted wine. Almost immediately her cheeks flushed pink and her skin began to tingle from the ripple of magic. Lifting the glass up, she carefully eyed the blush colored wine through the glass, watching it shimmer.

"Should we owl Mad-Eye? See if something came up? They should be home by now," Sirius suggested, withdrawing his feet from the table and he lowered all four legs of the chair onto the floor with a small clatter.

"They're only an hour or so late, so probably not yet. Frank mentioned that the Owl's are being monitored since the infiltration at the Ministry. Let's give it a bit. Maybe turn on the radio to see if any news is reported," Remus suggested, gesturing to the large transistor radio that sat on the end of the counter closest to the back door.

Sirius moved across the kitchen, quickly switching on the device before turning the dial until the soft hum of a contemporary wizarding rock ballad could be heard through the scratchy speaker. Hermione was only familiar with the tune from its being broadcast during the Witching Hour's monthly classics special. Her finger tapped against her wine glass with the soft melody at memories of sitting in The Burrow while Molly sang along with the lyrics. Ron and Ginny were both endlessly embarrassed by their mother's antics as she cooked their family meals, but George and Fred would often join in with her, dancing their mother around the kitchen in an exuberant fashion.

By the time the hook began to play, Hermione was pulled from her memories when Sirius held out his hand in front of her with an all-too-charming smile on his lips. "Care to dance?"

Dance? Surely he valued his toes more than he let on. Hermione laughed, her head shaking no before she took another sip of the magic wine. "I'm more of a spectator." Sure, she was halfway decent, but she had not danced in years. Not since Bill and Fleur's wedding and even then the celebration was brief.

"Pretty please?" he pressed, batting his eyelashes at his girlfriend, but when she shook her head no with wide eyes to reiterate her point he lifted his hands in defeat. "Fine. Moony, get your tight arse over here," he called out to his friend, winking at Hermione before spinning towards Remus who was begrudgingly walking towards Sirius.

Remus knew far too well this type of deflection Sirius was using. When something bothered him, or something was wrong the wizard simply could not sit still. Perhaps that's why he did well in the Order, because he was acting on correcting bad things, which meant he did not have to sit by and let them happen. Sliding his hand into his friend's, he allowed the raven haired wizard to pull him into a loose embrace as he swayed them to the music.

"At least someone is willing to have a bit of fun with me," Sirius teased Hermione from the middle of the room, one of his hands resting lightly on Remus' waist while the other held his friend's lifted hand.

"I wouldn't call this fun," Remus grumbled, but despite the put-upon sour remark he could not hide the corners of his lips from tugging up in the smallest of smiles. When Sirius made to 'dip' him, jade green eyes flashed over to Hermione who was laughing behind her wine glass as she watched the friends float around the kitchen. "You owe me," he shot across the kitchen.

"Whatever you want, Remus," she returned, chocolate brown eyes twinkling with laughter as the tempo picked up and Sirius attempted to get Remus to sway his hips faster to the beat. The pair moved around the kitchen, occasionally fumbling with their footwork as each wizard tried to take the lead which resulted in a few bonked heads and squished toes, but all in all they seemed to work out a rhythm. Hermione was perfectly fine staying put, enjoying the show they put on for her, laughing loudly at the pleading looks Remus gave her during the course of the show.

It was not until the oven beeped to signal the cook time was finished on the dinner rolls that Remus finally insisted on pulling away from Sirius. As the werewolf darted across the kitchen, Sirius made his way over to his girlfriend. Reaching out he took her half finished wine glass and set it on the countertop behind her before tugging her forward by her belt loops. "Your turn, Miss Granger," he purred.

Just as he began to tug her to the middle of the kitchen, with Remus encouraging his antics from across the room, the sound of the Potter's front door bursting open pulled the trio out of their temporary reprieve from the real reason they were here tonight.

Sirius instinctively spun on his heel, his wand withdrawn from his pants pocket and extended towards the entryway to the kitchen as his other arm held Hermione back, shielding her from whomever had just burst into the Potters' home.

Despite Sirius's chivalry, which was sweet albeit not needed, Hermione had her own wand withdrawn, her Auror training kicking in almost immediately and the adrenaline completely masking the effects of the Elven wine she had felt moments ago.

Remus nearly dropped the pan of dinner rolls on the floor, only catching himself moments before letting go of the pan. As the sound of heavy footsteps and furniture being bumped into echoed into the kitchen, Remus carefully lowered the pan onto the stovetop without making any sound as to not give away their location.

Hermione took point, side-stepping around Sirius and she moved towards the commotion, her footsteps light as a feather. She moved cautiously from the kitchen into the dining area, brown eyes fixated on the opening that lead to the living room, where the frantic sounds of what she assumed was a looter could be heard. Although she could not see them, it sounded as if they were looking for something in a hurry, based off the rushed sounds of heavy breathing and the way they were haphazardly overturning furniture. She pressed her spine against the wall just next to the opening, glancing to Sirius and Remus who were just behind her. She motioned for them to get against the wall and once they fell into place she closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself for battle.

She really did not want to make a mess of James and Lily's home, for she knew the witch was as neurotic about the cleanliness of her home as she was about how one should take notes, but surely she would be forgiven, right? With a deep breath, she moved into the opening, her wand steady in her hand as she prepared for the worst.

What she was not prepared for was the intruder to be James and Lily disrobing like it was an Olympic Sport in their living room. Their lips locked in a kiss so passionate they were stumbling into their furniture in an attempt to make their way to their bedroom.

Lily was already without her shirt and her jeans were opened, barely on her narrow hips, and James was down to his boxers. From the look of it they both had seen battle tonight. Their faces were grimy with soot, and their rumpled trail of clothing was absolutely filthy with ash and dirt.

"Fucking Hell, Prongs!" Sirius shouted, his wand hand dropped as he lifted his other hand to shield the nearly naked couple from his view. The wizard had only been a step behind Hermione, prepared to help apprehend whatever intruder was in his friends' home. "Couldn't make it to the bedroom?"

Hermione's eyes immediately dropped to the floor, her cheeks burning a deep crimson as she slipped her wand back into her pocket. "It's their home, Sirius," she muttered to her boyfriend.

Lily and James darted apart immediately, Lily gasping as she pulled James in front of her like a meat shield to cover up her nakedness as they looked at the duo on the opposite side of their living room. "W-What are you doing here?" James stammered as his mind reeled to catch up to the present.

"Lily invited us for dinner," Remus called out from behind the wall through laughter. He had, thankfully, not moved into the living room with Hermione and Sirius, instead he had opted to stay a few paces behind them. Moving the two steps to the left, he popped his head around the wall, sandy blond hair falling askew. He gave a small wave to the blushing couple before he noticed the sizable tent in James' boxers and he snorted. "Put that thing away, Prongs. Company's present," he teased.

James let out an involuntary squeak and his hands snapped to shield his erection from view as he darted to shimmy on his jeans.

"Oh...right...dinner," the red-headed witch confirmed, wincing as the memory of the invite flooded back. "Christ, I forgot."

"Clearly!" Sirius exclaimed as he gestured to Lily and James as they both struggled to dress quickly.

"This **is** our home, Padfoot," James reminded his friend, stumbling over his feet as he moved to grab their discarded clothing from the various spots it had landed in their shuffle across the living room. "How long have you been here?" he questioned as he pulled his shirt from a lampshade and pulled it on quickly, not noticing it was inside out.

"I already told him that," Hermione piped up, carefully parting her fingers that covered her line of vision to make sure the coast was clear and they were dressed before she dropped her hands. "About an hour or so."

"Is that…" James narrowed his vision as he adjusted his frames up his nose to get a better view through the darkened room. "Hermione, you're back!" A small smile spread across his lips as the witch came into view. He reached up to smooth his unruly black hair as he crossed the room. Once reaching Sirius and Hermione, he pulled the witch into a hug, careful not to put his hips anywhere near her.

"Hermione!" Lily echoed, not far behind her boyfriend and when James released her from the quick embrace she wrapped her thin arms around her. It felt like ages since she had seen her! She knew that the MACUSA kept her busy, but she would have to talk with the witch about juggling her priorities. Sirius had been in quite a state during this last leave. "When did you get back in?"

"Yesterday." Hermione withdrew from the hug, her hands resting on Lily's shoulders for a moment as she smiled up to her friend. "Merlin, what happened? You two look like-" It was when Lily's hand lifted to brush some of the dirt from her cheeks that she noticed the glinting of a beautiful ruby ring and her eyes went wide. "You're engaged!"

"You haven't told her?" James questioned, lifting a brow at Sirius and Remus.

"Told me what?" Hermione looked up from her examination of the ring and over her shoulder to the men who were congregating just behind them.

"There wasn't a lot of time," Sirius explained as his hand rose to scratch at the back of his neck. While not untrue, the fact that Prongs and Lily had finally wed truly had slipped his mind in the elation of Hermione's return.

"What did he not tell me?" Hermione looked back to Lily, her brow knitting in confusion as she let go of her friend's hand.

"James and I got married already. Figured there's no point in waiting...not since what's been going..." the redhead witch explained. The truth was morbid, but the facts remained the same. They were both Order members, which meant they had targets on their backs and neither was wanting to spend another moment not married to one another. Not when so much was at stake.

"Oh," Hermione could read between the lines. She lived through her own turmoil and knew just how war affected people, especially couples. Look at Fleur and Bill; they could have waited until Voldemort was defeated, but the uncertainty of if, or when, Harry killed him was too much of a risk to wait. "That's wonderful, Lily. Truly." She offered a happy grin to the redhead before turning to James, who was still whisper-arguing with Sirius over why Sirius would not have shared the joyous news.

"You could have slipped it in at some point," James pressed, blue eyes widening to emphasize his point.

"He was too busy slipping it in her to think about anything else," Remus added as he jutted his thumb towards Hermione. When Sirius reached over to smack his gut in response to his remark, he winced, his arms reflexively going to cover up his middle. "What? You think I didn't notice? The shed reeked of sex."

"Ew… not okay, Remus." Hermione pointed a finger at the werewolf who feigned innocence with a shrug before she pulled James in for another hug. "Congratulations, James. I'm sorry I missed it."

James turned the hug, arms wrapping around Hermione's middle as he gave her a soft squeeze. "It's quite alright. We didn't exactly give notice."

Married. James and Lily had finally wed. She couldn't believe it. Well she _could_ because they were married previously, but these two people we not just Harry's dead parents anymore, they were her friends! Her friends whose lives were in danger should she not stop a psychotic wizard. Despite her happy demeanor, her eyes sparkled with tears. She wasn't unhappy for them, quite the opposite! If they were wed that meant that the likelihood of Harry being there when she returned was great, but it also meant that the couple's impending danger was growing every day.

Reaching up her knuckles brushed the corner of her eyes as she pulled back from James. "Alright, enough about weddings, and Sirius being a shit communicator." Dampening her emotions as best she could, she forced herself back to the moment. James let out a throaty laugh at her insult while Sirius reached over to pull his weepy girlfriend into his arms, her back pressing against his chest. When his lips pressed against the crown of her head, she smiled, easing back into his embrace. "What happened to you two? You both look like hell."

"Lily looks beautiful, I don't know what you're talking about, Hermione." James defended his bride honorably. Hazel eyes looked to the redhead across the group from her. "Sure, she might have smudges on her nose and a bit of straw in her hair, but she's as marvelous as the day I met her."

"James!" Lily reached up, her hands patting down her messy hair until she found said debris in her hair, and she pulled it lose before tossing it at James as Remus and Sirius both fell into a fit of giggles as James tried to move closer to Lily with an apology.

"Hands off, Potter." Lily smacked his reaching hands away before attempting to wipe the soot from her cheeks. Merlin, she was married to him! The least he could do was make sure she didn't look like a buffoon in front of their friends. "We were in West End with Frank and Gideon. Our position was compromised, at least that's what Gideon said right before the first Bombarda hit."

"Bombarda? In Muggle London?" Remus' brows rose to his hairline in shock.

"A Bombarda was rather tame compared to the rest of the things sent our way," James began, his hands sliding into the back pockets of his jeans as he glanced around the circle of friends.

"Did anyone get hurt?" Hermione pressed.

"No one that matters. A couple pricks in masks were on the wrong end of my wand, but we all made it out in one piece," James smirked. "The best part is that we got him. Gideon Confringo'd a post box and it knocked that smarmy bastard out cold."

"W-Who?" Hermione's heart picked up its pace beneath her ribs, beating an unsteady rhythm of thinly subdued panic.

"Voldemort," Lily answered, and the uptick in her voice did little to hide the blistering excitement she felt about their group besting the Dark Lord earlier that evening. "He was out there with his followers."

"How do you know it was him?" Hermione pressed. Hoping-No praying that it was not true, because if they had faced Voldemort already and walked away the victors of their battle, that meant the prophecy was true. That meant that despite the changes that had occured since her being here, the dark reality of it all still lingered under the surface, waiting to rear its ugly head.

"He doesn't wear a mask like the rest and he was ordering them about," James explained, pulling Hermione's attention away from Lily. "And it wasn't our first time meeting him. Lily and I have had the pleasure of making his acquaintance more than once."

"You've fought him before?" Sirius frowned, his brow knitting as he looked at his best friend imploringly. He had been on several mission for the Order now, but coming across their ringleader was not something he had done yet. At least not knowingly.

"Yeah. It wasn't like we took him on personally in a duel. He's...just had a knack for showing up on the missions we've been assigned." James glanced between Remus, Sirius and Hermione who were looking at him with wide eyes. "What? Have you guys not been formally introduce to Lord Dark-and-Broody yet?"

"No… I've met him alright," Remus mumbled, glancing down to his toes.

Had she met Voldemort? Well one could say that. Although she would not call their introduction formal by any means. "I've had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, but I doubt he remembers me. Doesn't really try to keep tabs on us Muggleborns." It was the best explanation she could come up with, considering. Her hand instinctively went to her forearm, fingertips pressing into the faded scar that Bellatrix had carved at his behest. Do whatever necessary to find Potter, the Undesirable Number One, even if whatever necessary meant torture children. Although Bellatrix or any of the Death Eaters were not above torture, were they? Her stomach churned at the thought and just as her nails pressed into her scarred skin she felt Sirius' hand cover her own, pulling her from her thoughts as their fingers laced.

"Well I'm certain he'll remember me," Lily mused confidently, and when she felt four sets of eyes on her, a small sheepish grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "I might have used a Melofors Jinx on a few of the Death Eaters as they were Apparating away," she explained with just a hint of smugness in her tone.

Just as James was seconds away from gloating about his wife's skill, his nose twitched as a burning smell began to fill the room. "Do you smell that?" he questioned, glancing over his shoulder to look around the room to find the source.

Remus frowned as he looked up from the floor, his own nose picking up the pungent smell of burning food and jade green eyes widened. "Shit!" The werewolf spun on his heel and ran to the kitchen quickly, his wand at the ready to vanish whatever the source of the smell was.

One by one the group followed, Lily assisting with magically removing the aroma from the air as Remus pulled open her cupboards to find an alternative to burnt noodles. It did not take long, thanks to Lily's help, for dinner to be salvaged and served for the five friends who spent the rest of the evening huddled around the Potters' mismatched dining room set enjoying a plate of spaghetti sauce over brown rice and dinner rolls. Although the makeshift meal was obviously an odd pairing, it clearly did the trick as each of the Marauders present had quickly finished off two servings of their meal.

Lily and Hermione had spent much of their dinner discussing the missed wedding and the comings and goings of the Order members, while the men bantered over upcoming Quidditch matches. It was as if for a moment, the world was entirely normal. Like James and Lily had not just fought a group of Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. It was as if they were just a group of friends coming together to enjoy a meal, pausing from their busy post-Hogwarts lives to enjoy each others' company.

"So, Hermione," James questioned across the table, his fork pushing a few stray pieces of rice around his plate before Lily reached down to snatch up the dishware to take into the kitchen. "How long will you be back for?"

Sirius' head snapped over to Hermione at the question and the smile he had been wearing due to his laughter froze on his face. This was the question, wasn't it? He had asked more than once since her return and had yet to get a solid answer beyond 'long enough'. His fingers tightened their hold on his bottle of Goblin Mead as he awaited her reply.

Hermione looked away from Lily, her index finger tapping against the side of her wineglass nervously before she lifted it up to drain her glass before she set the empty glass on the table top, pushing it away from her to indicate she was finished indulging for the evening. She knew this was a bridge she would have to cross at one point, and thus far had been able to avoid a direct answer. Taking a deep breath, her vision locked on to Sirius for a moment before shifting over to James. "I'm on leave for about a year."

The sounds of Remus' shock (and somewhat disbelief) was masked by the sound of Sirius dropping his bottle of mead on the table, which sent the liquid pouring across the wooden surface. "Oh bugger!" Sirius muttered, reaching out to right the overturned beverage before he grabbed his wand from the table top to vanish the liquid.

James eyed his friend with an amused expression before reaching over to take the bottle from Sirius' trembling hands. "You've had enough I think, Pads. Getting sloppy in your old age," he teased before looking back to Hermione. "MACUSA let you take an entire year off? Blimey, I wish the Ministry let us take a years worth of leave." Lifting the mead to his lips, he took a large gulp of the remaining liquid.

Hermione kept her eyes on James, knowing that if she looked at Sirius or Remus she might not be able to mask her mistruths as well. "My boss did not have much of a choice. I kind of just… left." Technically, not a lie. Just stretching the truth a tad. Besides, it wasn't like James would ever find out. At least not until she was gone and Voldemort was buried (or burned, whatever the Ministry did with Dark Wizards in this era) ten feet underground.

"So you're with us for a whole year?" Lily's elation over the fact the witch would be around for longer than a couple of weeks dripped from her words as she reached across the table to snag Hermione's hand and draw the woman's attention back to her.

"What the bloody fuck are you going to do for a whole year?" Remus questioned frankly, jade green eyes flashing between Sirius, who was smiling like a madman, and Hermione, who appeared equally as happy about the (in his humble opinion) rather unsatisfying news. A whole fucking year of Sirius acting completely gaga for Time Lord was going to get old, VERY fast. Ground rules clearly needed to be set; like, for example, no shagging in shared spaces and certainly no using floral _conditioner_ , or whatever the fuck it was called.

Hermione returned the small hand-squeeze of Lily's, chocolate brown eyes leaving the familiar emerald ones of her friend to look at Remus across the table, who looked decidedly apathetic to the revelation. Like he was trying his best to contain the mixed emotions regarding the situation. "Save Wizarding Britain from a madman, I suppose," she replied casually with a small shrug of her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me way longer than it should of, so I apologize. However, I should be getting back to a normal 1x per week post. :) The story's action should pick up here very soon and will probably stay open throttle for a while with a few reprieve moments to celebrate things like holidays, birthdays, etc. I can't thank you guys enough to sticking around this far. As always, much love to Islandgurl777. She is quiet simply the worlds best BETA. Thank you all for your kind reviews, they are what encourage me to write more! Drop me a line to let me know if you're still reading & enjoying this story! ~ mm


	35. Mabon, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing

**September 23rd, 1979 - Puddlemere - 08:00**

The first day of fall brought many things to the Wizarding and Muggle world alike. It meant women typically forwent their skirts and shorts in favor of tight fitting trousers and jeans. It meant scarves and mittens were pulled from the depths of trunks and closets. It meant at Hogwarts the kitchen was preparing pastries with pumpkin and harvest grains that would stay present until spring. It also meant that the Pureblood Society's traditional Mabon festival was being held that very evening at Chateau Malfoy. Luckily for the trio who were trying to figure out a way into the very same manor, this archaic celebration was the perfect opportunity.

Sirius had been awake for nearly an hour, unable to sleep with the impending reunion with a part of his past he wished he could move past. He could hear the clock on his dresser tick idly by, something that would have normally helped lull him to sleep but now just seemed like a loud reminder they were hours away from returning to a place that held more than his fair share of awful memories.

His hands lifted from his stomach and he pressed his palms against his eyes, wishing the anxiety away, and just as stars began to form in the darkness he pulled his hands away with a heavy sigh before rolling on his side to face his sleeping girlfriend.

As he blinked the self-induced bluriness away, the image of his sleeping beauty came into view. Her full lips parted just slightly in her dream state, her wild curls a crown around her head and her pert breasts begging to be released from the confines of her white camisole and worshipped properly. Her physical beauty aside, Sirius' infatuation with his witch ran deeper than he ever thought possible. When James spoke about 'just knowing' Lily was for him, he thought it was all bullshit. Hell, he even thought at one point what he had with Moony might have been love, but it was almost foolish how wrong he had been. Because had sixteen-year-old Sirius known this consuming emotion would be what love actually felt like, he might have started searching for her earlier (although it would not have done much good, would it?).

Reaching out, the rough pads of his fingertips ran along the creamy skin of her stomach, where her camisole rode up. When she stirred due to his touch he chuckled under his breath. When they first started sleeping next to one another (before their first time shagging in Romania) she would wake up at the slightest noise and rustle outside, like a tightly wound top, ready to burst at any moment. But now she seemed at ease. It had been a long time since she had woken up from a nightmare when she was with him.

Hermione let out a soft noise in her twilight-sleep, reaching down to scratch at the tickle across her stomach, and when her hand tangled with Sirius' she let out a soft breath as her nose twitched. "It's too early, Sirius." Rolling onto her side so her back faced the wizard she blindly reached across the bed to grab the extra pillow she kept at the edge of the mattress to tuck into her arms.

"Says the witch who used to wake me up at six in the morning," he snickered, sliding across the mattress so he could drape his arm around her middle to ease her back against him. His nose nuzzled against the curls on the back of her head, nudging his way through the wild ringlets until he reached the back of her neck so he could press soft kisses against her skin. "Couldn't...sleep," he whispered through his kisses.

Hermione hummed with approval as his mouth worked its way across the sensitive skin of her neck, pausing to occasionally sample her as he worked his way across her skin. "So now I have to wake up?" she questioned, biting her bottom lip as he pressed his lips just beneath her ear.

His nose brushed against the skin behind her ear before his mouth hovered over the shell. "Yes, but I promise I'll make it worthwhile." As his warm breath caressed her, he felt her shiver involuntarily in his embrace before she purposefully arched her lower back against him so her arse ground against his pelvis.

As Sirius gasped at the brazen move, his fingers curled against her abdomen, clutching the thin camisole for a heartbeat before he slid his hand lower and lower. His fingertips dipped beneath the elastic band of her knickers, brushing through her shortly cropped curls to slip between her folds.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as she felt his fingertip rub against her clit, and when an involuntary moan left her throat before her sleepy mind could catch up to what her boyfriend was doing, her fingers curled into the plush pillow she was holding. He wanted her awake? Well this was certainly one way to wake her up! Hermione's thighs parted, allowing his hand at the apex of her thighs more room to move as she leaned back against him further. His name tumbled from her tongue, unable to help herself from praising him.

Sirius smirked against her skin, his teeth grazing the scarred skin on the cap of her shoulder as he worked his index and middle finger in deliberate circles over her clit, his hand moving in time with her rocking hips. His arm, underneath the pillow that was currently supporting both of their heads, moved under Hermione's torso, twisting ever so slightly until he could slip his hand underneath her to cup her breast through her thin top, his fingers beginning to pluck and brush against her nipple.

Hermione let go of the pillow with one hand. Reaching back she sunk her fingers into Sirius' soft hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp as she vibrated beneath his hands, her body beginning to wind up. Each sweep of his fingers against her clit caused the fire burning in her belly to creep higher and higher. "Sirius," she gasped when she felt his two fingers sweep lower, pushing against her core to feel just how wet he had made her.

Campfire smoke eyes closed as he brushed his fingers against her entrance, his teeth nipping at her shoulder to prevent a hiss in pleasure when he felt how wet she had become. She was practically dripping, and when he eased his two fingers inside her, his cock throbbed in response to the way her pussy clung to his digits. "Fuck, Hermione," he groaned against her skin as he pressed his cock against her arse, grinding in time with her hips as he worked a steady rhythm into her dripping core.

Hermione's grip tightened on his hair, her toes curling against the sheets as she tried to plant her feet against the sheet the best she could from this angle so she could get more friction from his palm against her clit. "Sirius, please," she begged, her teeth biting her bottom lip to stifle a loud moan as he pressed his palm against her skin, stilling his pumping fingers to work her bundle of nerves in deliberate circles until her pleas for more spilled from her lips.

Sirius withdrew his fingers from her core, and his hand on her breast dropped to join his other in pushing her knickers down her hips quickly, before his boxers followed suit. When her camisole hit the floor and she began to turned toward him, he reached out. "No," he breathed, his fingers sliding across her shoulder blade, over her shoulder and up the side of her neck until he turned her jaw over her shoulder to he could steal a demanding kiss as he eased the back of her body against his front.

His hand ran the length of her body, sending a trail of goosebumps that followed his touch until he reached her thigh and he hooked her thigh up over his own. Carefully he lifted his own leg, which caused her own to rise until she was bared to the world on her side, her damp curls glistening in the soft morning light. The soft pink of her pussy peeked through her folds, taunting him to continue his plan.

Reaching between her body and his, Sirius grasped the base of his cock and helped sweep himself through her folds, rubbing her desire for him across his cock before he lined himself up at her entrance. As he sheathed himself inside her pussy, his lips parted from hers so he could let out a deep moan.

Hermione's cheek pressed against his chin as she rolled onto her side more, trying to provide more access for him to work his cock inside her aching core. As he began a steady rhythm, she felt herself teetering dangerously close to the edge of an orgasm. Her fingers curled, one hand into the sheet and the other against his skin as her head lulled back pleasure.

"Touch yourself," Sirius breathed against her ear, but this was not a request. No, it was a demand from a wizard intent on making sure his witch found her release before his own. He knew she was close, he could feel her pussy flutter around his cock, a telltale sign she was just a little bit away from finding her own bliss. A bliss that only he could give her.

Her head nodded, and the hand curling against the back of his neck unhooked from around his shoulders to slide down her body, her fingertips grazing over her sweat-slick skin until she reached her pussy. She brushed them across her clit, causing her moan to stutter in her throat before she dared drop them lower to feel his hard cock slide in and out of her. She nearly came undone at the feeling, so when her desire-blown eyes opened and she looked down to watch him move deep inside her, in a position where it seemed he was able to grind the head of his cock against every single spot inside her body, that made her voice hit several octaves higher than normal. "Oh Gods."

Sirius bit his bottom lip, campfire smoke eyes fixed on her face, watching her cheeks flush deeper, but her eyes couldn't deny the desire that seemed to blaze brighter when she watched him sink deep inside her petite frame. Her reaction only succeeded in making his hips snap harder against her; the hand holding her thigh up tightened its hold, his fingertips pressing bruisingly against the soft supple skin as he worked himself faster and harder inside her. Just how he knew she liked.

Hermione's head tipped back against his shoulder, no longer able to keep it lifted through the waves of pleasure as her fingers traveled back up to her clit at his instance, and as she began to rub the hardened bundle of nerves in quick tiny circles, she allowed her pleasure to consume her.

His name was a prayer on her lips, her body basking in his worship like a deity drunk on his devotion. Sirius was many things to Hermione, her boyfriend, her best friend's Godfather, and presently, the soul source of her bliss. As she rode the waves of her orgasm, she felt his own desire for her come to a head.

His pace stumbled as he followed her over the edge, his teeth biting down on her shoulder just as he spilled his seed inside her welcoming body, but his thrusting did not stop. Instead the pace moved slower and slower until he finally pushed himself inside her for a final time. His hips were tight against her arse as he pulled her body back into his. His softening cock was still buried to the hilt in her, not ready yet to give up the feeling of her silken heat fluttering around him as she came down from her high.

As his tongue and lips lavished her newly-acquired bite on her shoulder, the hand on her stomach splayed out wide, holding her tight to him as his other hand lifted to knead gently at her breast, massaging the supple breast to feel her rapid heartbeat against his fingertips. "You're…amazing," he murmured against her skin through his heavy breaths.

"Mmm..," she hummed back, not quite yet ready to form coherent words. Her hands moved down to the one one her stomach and slowly she peeled his palm away, her hips lifting forward and his softening cock slipped from inside her as she carefully rolled on the bed, twisting until they were lying stomach to stomach.

Chocolate brown eyes danced across his flushed cheeks and sweaty brow as she took in the image of his post-orgasm bliss. Moments like these she wanted to capture forever, burn them into her memory so she could never forget the way he looked, smelt and felt. And the way he made her feel. Like she was the most important thing on the planet to him. Even when she was in deep with her relationship with Ron, he'd never looked at her the way Sirius did. Like she was his everything.

Reaching up, her fingertips pushed the sweaty fringe of black back from his forehead before she trailed her index finger across a small scar just above his left eyebrow. "I love you, Sirius."

He laid still, letting her examine him like one would a precious object, his arms, having wound around her waist when she rolled to face him, stroked softly up and down the length of her spine. When her words broke his fleeting thoughts of their future, he returned the shy grin that spread across her lips. "Say it again," he requested, for he was not sure he could ever grow tired of hearing those three little words.

"I love you," she began, her voice holding a little more assertion than it had moments ago. Leaning forward, her lips pressed into his in soft sweet kiss, the promise of so much more (though frankly, this she could not promise) lingering between them. "I love you, Sirius Orion Black. With all my heart."

"I love you too, Hermione," he returned. His nose brushed against her, her words of devotion dancing across his lips, sending a feeling far better than words could describe running from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. She loved him; this was not just some hook up, some moment in time for them to spend together before they parted ways at the end of this time travel mess. She loved him, and Sirius knew in that moment that he truly, without a doubt, unequivocally loved Hermione Jean Granger. Despite the obvious complications, despite the fact that she was (at times) a walking contradiction that would drive him madder than a box of chocolate frogs. Despite all of the cards stacked against them, he loved her. And he would do whatever it took to make sure that at the end of this year, when she finally went back to 1999, that he would be waiting for her. Ready to spend the rest of their lives together. Preferably with his friends by their sides.

* * *

**September 23rd, 1979 - Godric's Hollow- 19:00**

Hermione pulled the rust-colored crushed-velvet cloak tighter around her shoulders. The gown Sirius had helped her purchase for this did little to combat the creeping cold of autumn settling in across West Country. Her own unease she felt about returning to Malfoy Manor grew throughout the day, and in its present state she was stuck somewhere between feeling like she might throw up her lunch or scream to release the pressure that had built up, like a kettle that had sat over a flame.

But despite her own reservations, she knew Sirius was absolutely dreading this return. The wizard had a habit of using sex as a means to distract himself from his problems, and had taken her twice since their early morning shag. Once against the shower wall while they tried to get ready for the day, and just before they Apparated to Godric's Hollow to pick up their friend. She knew he was trying to combat his rising nerves the only way he knew how, and as much as she was willing to oblige, she knew her year-long Contraceptive Potion was coming up on its renewal date and she would need to sort that out before much more could occur between them in that capacity. Besides, she could not find herself easing his fears while in the Manor because she had her own demons to confront that evening.

Which is exactly why Remus was 'Lily-sitting' tonight and James was accompanying the pair to Malfoy Manor. James had a magnetism around him that, for Sirius, exuded calm. James had been his safe space for over eight years, his first true friend, not some person his parents forced him to spend time with. He had the ability to rile Sirius up, and take him down several notches in the same hand. James was perfect for this mission as well, because for Hermione, it almost felt like old times with Harry. Short of subtle differences between the men (not just eye color, but the way James' eyes crinkled in smile, while Harry's grew larger, or the way James' nose sloped just slightly to the left from an old Quidditch injury while Harry's sloped to the right from his altercation with Draco during their sixth year; they were nearly identical, but on the same hand entirely different men), she could almost pretend it was her best friend accompanying her to a place that had plagued her dreams for the past year.

"Where the bloody fuck is he?" Sirius grumbled, his agitation growing more by the minute. He reached out, adjusting the ebony gloves on his hands, his fingers flexing against the soft fabric before he began to pace. The moment he slipped on the Pureblood-in-a-box costume special, Sirius felt near typhoon levels of dread; the creeping panic he had kept at bay took over, and he'd nearly decided to consume the remainder of his Ogden's Finest, if it weren't for the fact that Hermione would likely have made him stay back, and he was not going to allow her to walk into that Snake den without him at her side.

"He'll be here soon." Hermione glanced over her shoulder, watching as her boyfriend adjusted his black and silver cloak for what felt like the thousandth time. "...Sirius," she said softly, trying to gain his attention as he seemed to disappear further into himself.

"He's always fucking late. I told him to be on time. We can't risk being in that house past ten-"

"Sirius," her voice grew louder.

His gloved hands rose to smooth down the hair on top of his head. He had pulled back his growing locks, tying them at the base of his neck with a burgundy ribbon that Hermione had magicked to match his button-down perfectly. He was completely oblivious to the witch's attempts to gain his attention. "-That's when demasking begins and I swear to fucking Merlin, if Prongs-"

"SIRIUS!" she shouted.

Sirius, snapped out of his tirade on the various ways he was going to jinx his friend, and looked over to Hermione with raised brows. "What?!"

"Come here." Her hand was extended to him, the billowing sleeve of her cloak sliding up her forearm to rest in the crook of her elbow. When he crossed the small dirt path to slip his hand into hers, she pulled him to her body. Her arms wound around his waist in a tight hug, her head resting against his chest, just underneath chin. "Are you going to be able to pull it together? I didn't realise how much this would affect you."

Sirius stiffened under her hug for half a second, his walls already so high that her affection confused him, but as her familiar scent washed through his senses, his arms moved around her. His fingers curled against her cloak as he pulled her tight, leaning down so he could brush his nose against the crown of her head. She had straightened her curls with some potion Lily had picked up from the Alley, and although he didn't mind the pin-straight hair, it definitely was not the same as the wild mane he had grown so fond of. "Yeah...just… not really looking forward to this."

That was the understatement of the century, based on his behavior leading up to this evening. Leaning up on the tips of her toes, she pressed her rouged lips against his in a chaste, yet sweet, kiss. "I don't think anyone is actually excited to go…aside from the actual attendees."

"Oh I don't know about that," came the familiar drawl of James Potter from behind the embracing couple. The crunching sound of his approach was muffled by a richly colored orange cloak. Pushing the cloak from his shoulders, he revealed an outfit that Hermione could only describe as a mix between 1700's Muggle and Wizarding French aristocracy. He wore cropped brown trousers with long silken socks pulled up to the knee with loafers with a slight heel. His cream colored shirt came adorned with more ruffles billowing from the center than any dress she had seen at the Yule Ball. Around his neck he wore a brown and orange silk scarf and his black unruly hair had been left wild. Nothing could tame the legend that was the Potter head, but in the middle of the untamable locks were two large antlers sprouting up tall and proud. Each set held strings of harvest flowers and red and orange colored leafs. "I look pretty fucking fantastic. I am real keen to show this off."

"Oh dear lord," Hermione gulped as she absorbed James' outfit. Parting from Sirius' hold, her hand went to her lips as James did a little spin to show off the complete ensemble for his friends.

Sirius' eyes went wide with shock at first, seemingly unable to process the spectacle before him, and slowly, the shock began to shift to almost rage. His nostrils flared as he lifted his hand to rub his fingers against his brow in astonishment. "Prongs, what the bloody fuck do you think you're wearing?"

"Uh… an amazing outfit," he responded, although his pragmatic tone was obviously lost on both Hermione and Sirius' senses of fashion.

"Oh James, no," Hermione laughed, trying her best to keep the laughter light in her voice. She knew Sirius was already having issues with the evening. He did not need to deal with his friend's inability to remain practical about their dress code for this mission.

"We are supposed to be low-key, Prongs! Remember, in and out without being noticed. Hence the fucking masks!" Sirius snapped, lifting the grim mask that had been tucked in the inside of his cloak to wave it towards his friend.

"What on earth are you talking about, Padfoot? I'll blend in," James scoffed, dramatically tossing his cloak back over his shoulder. "I've seen your family members wear far more extravi-"

"The bloody fuck you will! How many times have you seen Purebloods sprout fucking antlers at parties?" Sirius interrupted, campfire smoke eyes shooting daggers at Hermione who was falling into a fit of obvious laughter at the pair's row. "Take them off. Take them off immediately or I will."

James' smile split across his face, as if unable to contain his excitement any longer. "Take them off? They aren't a prop, Sirius. I used Anteoculatia on myself. They'll be here for at least several hours, if not days."

Sirius lifted his eyes from the ground, his jaw setting as he gulped down his rising urge to lunge across the path and force some sense into his friend with his fist. "Hermione, you brought your purse right?" he questioned, his voice oddly level for the amount of anxiety running through his veins.

"Yeah?" the witch responded, lifting her left hand to expose the small beaded bag that was attached to the inside of her cloak.

"Good. You've got a file in there? I need to de-horn James. Mind holding him down?"

Sirius began to advance towards James, his knuckles cracking in a way that made him look more menacing than on the verge of a breakdown. Hermione's hand moved to the wand pocket in her robes, withdrawing her vinewood, and she quickly leveled it at the twin antler sprouting from James' head. " _Evanesco._ "

A swirl of purple smoke erupted from the tip of her wand and shot across the space between her and James. It whirled around the antlers, traveling from the tips to base, and as the smoke trailed down the antlers they began to disappear, until the foliage and flowers that had been draped across them fell to the ground, scattering around the wizard's feet.

James' hand went up, patting the top of his head as the purple smoke drifted into the soft autumn breeze and his brow furrowed. "Aw, come on Hermione!" he whined.

"You should be thanking me, James," she returned as she stuffed her wand back into its pocket. "Sirius might have actually killed you had I not stepped in."

When Sirius, who visibly relaxed with the antlers vanished from the top of his friends head, made no move to correct her accusation, James lifted his hand to his chest in mock shock. "Ouch...okay, okay! I see how it is, Padfoot. I'll keep this in mind for next time."

"Next time what?" Sirius grumbled, his hands sliding into the front pockets of his trousers as he lifted a single brow at his friend quizzically.

"Next time you need my help, obviously," James explained.

"Alright, that's enough!" Hermione interrupted before Sirius could travel down a path she was certain James was not prepared to deal with tonight. Reaching out, Hermione's right hand curled around Sirius' forearm and she held out her left to James. "We can discuss when it is appropriate to wear antlers to formal gatherings, and when it is absurd, later. Perhaps over a celebratory drink once we leave the Malfoys' with diary in tow, sound good?" Glancing between the men, she did not wait for a reply before continuing. "Great! Now, Sirius, would you do the honors of Side-Alonging us to the Manor or would you like me to?"

"You've been there before?" James questioned, surprised by her candid revelation. Apparition only works if you have traveled there before; this was one of the first rules that the trainers pressed when you studied for the exam during 7th year.

" _Later_ , James… We can discuss all the nuances of my past _later,_ " she quipped, glancing to the wizard before she looked down at the toes of her boots. And of course by later, she meant much later. Like possibly twenty years in the future. Explaining why a Muggleborn was familiar enough with one of the most prominent Pureblood supremacist families in Wizarding England to Apparate there was not something that could easily be explained without divulging details of her past that could ruin everything. "You know what, I'll do it. Yeah? Great. Hold on."

Before Sirius could voice his own curiosity regarding why she knew the location of the Malfoy Estate, she tightened her grip on each wizard, pulling them closer until the world went black. Apparition was not her favorite method of transportation, but it was the most convenient, and certainly the quickest. She felt the three of them travel through the space between Godric's Hollow and Wiltshire. With both homesteads residing in West End, it only took them mere seconds to land outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.

She had purposefully chosen to land them down the street, providing plenty of space to don their masks and prepare themselves to walk down the Manor walkway. Most partygoers would not appear this far from the gates, for it was far too inconvenient to walk on the gravel in heels and in nice loafers, which meant their privacy could almost be insured.

The thoughts of questioning why Hermione would know the location of his cousin's house slipped from his mind the moment they landed. The looming manor in the distance instantly dried his mouth and caused his stomach to clench. He'd spent many nights forced to endure the presence of proper Pureblood society in his youth, tormented by a cousin six years his elder and his pack of cronies who thought it great sport to practice magic on Sirius and Regulus both. He'd ran through the halls in fear, hiding from his drunken parents, who were never pleased with him, so he would not have to face their wrath when other relatives spoke of how their eldest son was such a disappointment to their Pureblood society. The Manor, albeit a beautiful home, was quite possibly the ugliest thing in existence. Even Grimmauld Place held a few memories of happier times, while this estate, this foreboding Manor that loomed across the fields around it, did little to stir anything inside him beyond a crushing vortex.

Hermione wasted no time in placing her mask on her face, using the intricate details of the autumn flowers that were covering the half-face mask to hide the rising dread she too felt. Her nimble fingers tied the ribbon of the mask behind her head, careful to activate the enchantment on the mask that made a matching crown of autumn flowers, twigs and leaves circle her head. Glancing over to Sirius, who had yet to move to put his own mask in place, she reached out. Sliding her hand into his cloak, she unhooked the mask he had chosen and carefully placed it on his face, pulling the wizard's attention away from the manor. "In and out, right?" she repeated the promise they made to one another earlier as she carefully tied the ribbon behind his head.

"Right," he repeated, campfire smoke eyes dancing across what little he could see of her face. She looked entirely different; the straight hair, the red lips and of course, the mask. But her eyes remained unchanged, and in this moment he was eternally thankful to have those big beautiful brown eyes looking back at him. Lifting his hand, he ran his fingers across the petals of a small sunflower and a soft smile began to appear. "You look beautiful."

Hermione smirked, playfully tapping the snout of his grim mask before she stepped back from him, straightening her cloak. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"And I look fucking brilliant," James commented from behind the pair. He had chosen the mask of a stag, except without his antlers he looked more like a doe. The dark browns and amber fur made the hazel in his eyes shine beautifully, and thankfully the elongated snout helped mask the trademark Potter smile that would have given away who he was nearly instantly.

Sirius laughed at James as he did a flamboyant twirl to show off his choice of attire. "You're supposed to be the modest one, Prongs. You **are** married."

"I'm married, not dead! I can't help it if my appeal cannot be contained," James defended, reaching out to hook his arm through Sirius' as the wizard approached.

The trio, once fully masked, began the small journey towards the Manor gates. The closer they got to the Manor, the sound of music and conversation grew louder. Lining the path from the gates to the front door of the Malfoy family home were torches, the soft glow of their flames illuminating the walkway, and nestled between each set were bushels of harvest goods: apples so vibrantly red they almost looked faked, green pears, pomegranates nearly bursting with their juices, pumpkins, squash, corn and grains of nearly all varieties. There was enough produce to feed an army, but it was clear that this food was not intended to be consumed.

It was a show of wealth, a display of just how much better the Malfoy family was than everyone else. How they could afford to purchase and inevitably waste bushels and bushels of food. The thought made Hermione's skin crawl as made her way down the paved walkway, following behind a couple who had Apparated before them just before the gates.

The front door was held open by a House Elf, who did their best to appear as regal as possible in what appeared to be flour sack. Upon entering the home, they were directed towards the ballroom, their path lined with plush emerald-colored carpet. Sirius and James walked in front of Hermione, all silent as the grave as they took in the atmosphere of the celebration at hand.

The were more people than Hermione could count, but if she had to guess at least one hundred already congregated in the decorated ballroom, and there seemed to be no sign of attendees to the welcoming of Harvest stopping. The ballroom was positively dripping with fall decor. Amber, red and forest green tones were draped along the tables that line the walls for guests to use. The string quartet played a melancholy tune but it seemed none of the guests noticed.

Although James' antlers would have stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of people, the extravagance of his costume seemed right up the alley of several wizards who wandered the room. Hermione stayed two steps behind Sirius and James, letting them take the lead of guiding them into the thick of the party.

James, seemingly not at all bothered to be surrounded by people who were almost certainly Death Eaters, or at the very least associated with them, took the small bites off trays of passing house elvess, happy to snack his way across the room. "Oh Blimey, try this Pads. Fig and goat cheese," he mumbled around a mouthful of the sticky fruit concoction before snatching three more off of the tray to dish out to his friends.

"No thanks," Sirius grumbled, lifting his hand to wave off the offering of the snack. Although he had not eaten a lot today, he felt far from hungry. He couldn't be certain, but this home, brimming with old world ideology and hate, seemed to kill any sort of emotion beyond dread inside him. It was as if he was in Azkaban, surrounded by Dementors sucking all thoughts of happiness from the room.

James nodded, glancing over his shoulder to Hermione as he lifted his hand clutching the figs in a silent offering, and when she shook her head no he began to pop them into his mouth, one by one. As a house elf balancing a tray in each hand holding chalices full of wine began to make his way across their path, James reached out and plucked three of the heavy stemware from the tray. He pressed one into Sirius' hand before turning to do the same to Hermione, not taking no for an answer. If they did not start looking like they were at least pretending to enjoy the party, then they would surely stand out amongst the crowd. Besides, if he got a free meal on Malfoy's dime AND found whatever this horcrux thing was, well then that certainly would not have been a bad night.

Hermione allowed James to tug her forward until she slipped between Sirius and him, falling into place between them as the group settled against the far wall of the ballroom, just beyond the string quartet. Their vantage point of the room allowed them to see all incoming guests and the rest of the party mingling around the room. They were also closest to the only other exit from the room, the one that the house elves were using to access the back hall towards the kitchens.

"Do you see him?" Hermione spoke up, lifting her glass to take a drink of the crimson wine James had procured from the tray. She had to admit, it was absolutely divine. Not elven, no this was similar to a Muggle reserve, rich, bold and almost smokey. Something from Malfoy's private reserve if she had to guess, something else he could show off to his guests.

"The Peacock Prince?" James confirmed and when Hermione snorted into her chalice in response, his wicked smile grew. He only needed the slightest bit of encouragement to continue, as seemed to be a Marauder trait. "I have not, but it shouldn't be too hard to find him. Just look for a blonde spec in the sea of fall colors and you'll likely find him."

"He's probably floating around showing off Cissy," Sirius shrugged, lifting his own glass to drain the contents before setting it on the table next to them with a louder thud than intended.

"Showing off?" Hermione glanced to Sirius out of the corner of her eyes, watching him adjust his mask on his face nervously as he surveyed the room.

"It's what Lucius does best. Dress up his arm candy and show off his prize to his supposed friends," James explained, leaning back against the table and crossing his legs at the ankles. "He did it with Phaedra Avery before his engagement to Narcissa. It was bloody awful, the way he dragged her around the school on his arm, eager to show off his prize like a spoilt little boy."

"Well that's exactly what he is," Sirius scoffed, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he surveyed the room. "No one's ever had the backbone to tell him no with the exception of Papa Abraxas, but now that the old bastard's croaked-"

"May the fire-breathing bastard enjoy his stint in hell." James lifted his chalice in a mock toast to the recently deceased Malfoy patriarch.

"-There is nothing to keep Lucius from acting like a pompous arse full-time," Sirius explained, glancing over to Hermione who was surveying the crowd, waiting for the perfect moment for the three of them to slip away unnoticed. When her eyes widened with the unmistakable quiver of fear, before her attention was purposefully diverted across the ballroom, Sirius frowned. Straightening his spine, he looked towards the side of the room she had just been looking at and his mouth almost instantly went dry.

Across the room, to the right of the quartet, stood a group of people he was all too familiar with. Even dressed in costume he would recognize the high Victorian collar of his mother's dress anywhere. Next to her stood an aging wizard, his father, who looked as if he had aged ten plus years since the last time he had laid eyes on him. He clutched a cane in his left hand, leaning heavily upon the golden staff as if without it he would simply crumble to the floor. His once thick, lustrous black hair (the very same both of his sons inherited) was more gray than black now, and even behind the raven mask Sirius could see he had far more wrinkles than a man of his age should possess.

Beside his father stood his brother. He had only been fourteen when Sirius had left home, and fifteen when he had seen his brother last. He stood at least two heads taller than he remembered, which should be expected as he was now seventeen and a 'man' in wizarding society, but it still shocked to see him look so grown. The youngest Black donned a black velvet domino mask, making it quite easy to distinguish who was behind it, even if it weren't for piercing silver eyes that he had inherited from their mother. As young children they often said the two Black boys looked similar, but now, on the cusp of true adulthood, the boys could not look more different.

Sirius watched as Walburga and Orion spoke in hushed tones over the soft string music, gesturing proudly to Regulus who had yet to open his mouth to add to whatever conversation his family was having with the young Lestrange couple. Bellatrix, whose wild curls seemed less elegant than his girlfriend's and more 'crazy banshee', wore no mask, nor did her husband. Never the pair to play by the rules, the newlyweds sipped on glasses of what Sirius assumed was Firewhiskey, as Bellatrix had never had a taste for wine.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus both seemed to hang on Walburga's word, and when the Black maritarch nudged her youngest son and gestured to his left arm,Regulus pulled up the sleeve of his button-down to reveal a black brand that literally stole the air from Sirius' lungs. The Dark Mark. His brother had taken the Dark Mark. And his parents, instead of looking horrified at the idea their son had joined something that almost certainly guaranteed their youngest was facing danger, beamed with pride; which only seemed to brighten when Bellatrix and Rodolphus lifted the sleeves on their own attire to expose a matching set.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Sirius growled, his fists clenching at his sides so tight his knuckles were beginning to whiten. His eyes narrowed on his family, feeling no sense of loyalty to the people who shared his last name as he watched them across the ballroom. Rage, revulsion, and loathing. He hated his parents, for more than just his upbringing. He hated them for their blood prejudice. For knowing they would dismiss someone as kind and beautiful as Hermione just because her parents were Muggles. They would discount her cleverness, and accuse her of stealing magic. He hated them for doting upon Regulus, turning the once wide-eyed little boy, so full of innocence and kindness, into some sort of monster. He hated them all. "He took the fucking Mark!"

James looked up from where he had managed to gather a small plate of hors d'oeuvres from the house elves as they made their way through the swinging double doors their table was beside. Just as Sirius' words began to process, his brow knitted quizzically until he looked across the ballroom to where Sirius' gaze was fixed. "Oh shit."

James lunged forward, his fingers curling around the collar of Sirius' button-down as the wizard began to advance, yanking him back as his other hand went to his friend's shoulder. "Hermione, it doesn't matter where Malfoy is, we need to leave the room," he told the witch as he began to haul a struggling Sirius back. "Now!"

Hermione followed slowly behind the pair, her cloak billowing behind her with each hurried step as James and her both ushered the struggling wizard from the ballroom, and just as James and Sirius made it through the swinging door she allowed herself to glanced over her shoulder towards where she knew Bellatrix and his family stood. The commotion had not gone unnoticed by attendees of the Malfoys' Mabon party, most of whom were whispering over their drinks, and when her eyes met the cruel gaze of the woman who had tormented her dreams for the past twelve months, her skin began to crawl. Hermione had to remind herself that the witch was not yet familiar with her and physically fight the urge to run from the room in terror.

Gulping down the nausea that was beginning to rise, Hermione looked past the vengeful witch's shoulder to see Regulus hastily tug the cuff of his sleeve down to hide his Mark, his hand curling over the spot she knew Voldemort branded his followers, and a look she could only describe as regret was washed so plainly over his face that if one was truly looking they would have been able to recognise it instantly. Unfortunately, now was not the time to try and decipher the youngest Black's feelings regarding his Death Eater status.

As she fled the room, out of the corner of her eye she could see a couple enter from the main entrance to the ballroom. They were dressed from head to toe in brilliant white and silver clothing, looking to find who had caused their guests to begin whispering discontent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning next week I will be updating this fic ever Wednesday for the foreseeable future. Thank you for sticking with me this far and let me know what you think! I cherish every one of your reviews. 
> 
> A couple people have asked why Hermione won't just break the Time Turner and never go back, and the simple answer is that it would completely and utterly fuck up her past. Without going into great detail (which I could ramble on this subject for a while, just ask my alpha and beta), that is the most simple answer I can give you. She is already risking a lot with staying 1 year in the past.
> 
> As a quick disclaim for anyone out there reading this who might be Pagan (or who is genuinely curious) please know that the Malfoy's celebration of Mabon (or Autumnal equinox) intends zero disrespect. I am seeing their celebration of the holiday similar to how many non-Christian's celebrate Christmas in December. For them is is entirely a power play to up their family status among the pureblood society. The "old Gods" are still followed loosely by Pureblood's in my head, and this, Pagan celebrations are 100% present in the Wizarding World. I have tried to keep the honor of the harvest present during this scene. Hopfully no one is offended. :)


	36. Mabon, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**September 23rd, 1979 - Malfoy Manor- 20:15**

"Let me fucking go, Prongs!" Sirius struggled against his friend as he was dragged down the hallway past perplexed House Elves, his voice echoing off the narrow walls. He had managed to knock both of their masks from their face in his initial struggle and was now trying to weasel out of James' arms, which were securely wrapped around his middle as he was pulled further away from the ballroom. In truth, Sirius knew he should have tempered his anger better, but in the moment, seeing Regulus's permanently marked skin, and his parents swelling with pride over the fact their beloved baby boy had so blindly followed their lead and fell into a hatred so asinine that one had to literally bury their head in the sand to believe it. He could not prevent his impulse to march across that room and beat the shit out of him.

How could he?! How could he fucking follow allow with their rhetoric and pledge his fidelity to a madman? A man that believed everyone beneath him! A man who would not hesitate to snuff out the flame of life for anyone who stood in his way, Witch, Wizard, Muggle, Child or creature. It did not matter. Sirius had seen first hand the capability of the destruction that was Voldemort and his followers and knowing that Reg, his own fucking brother, could have been one of those cowards behind a mask was almost too much to bear. Reg was supposed to be different, he was supposed to see through the Pureblood bullshit and realise how wrong Mum and Dad were. He was not supposed to walk this path, he was supposed to be better than this, better than them.

"I'll let you -oof!" James' glasses went skittering to the floor as Sirius landed a well-placed blow with his elbow to the side of his friend's face and for a moment his grip loosened on the wizard as he saw stars.

Never one to miss an opportunity when presented, Sirius reached down to James' hands that were clasped together at his navel and he pried them apart quicker than the wizard could react, and just as he turned to begin down the hallway, his hand drawn inside his cloak to withdraw his ironwood wand, he caught sight of Hermione rushing up the corridor. The look in her eye was not one he had seen since their mission in Germany and the thought sent a chill down his spine.

Fear? Yes, but not just that. She looked determined, with a hint of terror bubbling underneath as she whipped her wand towards the discarded masks on the floor, causing them to float behind her as her hurried footsteps beat towards the men. Reaching up, she peeled her own mask away from her face before pushing her cloak from her shoulders to rest against her back so she could more easily access her beaded bag to put her mask away. As she opened up the beaded bag, the flowers that had magicked around the crown of her head began to drop to the floor, leaving a trail in her wake as she moved towards them.

"I know you're eager to hash out some family issues, Sirius," Hermione snapped as she snatched each of the masks floating behind her out of the air before shoving them into her bag. "But now is not the time."

"The time? Hermione, did you not see what-"

"Of course I saw!" she snapped. As she drew closer to the men, her wand was flashed at the fallen glasses on the floor before she pointed the vinewood at James who was blindly trying to feel his way for them. "How could I not fucking noticing? But I also remembered that we had a job to do. Sirius, I asked you if you could handle this. I asked more than once!"

His hand tightened around the ironwood, his knuckles near white. He was trying to remember his anger was not directed at her, that she was actually helping in this situation, but his rage was blind. Had she known? The possibility was likely, considering she was from the fucking future, but if she knew he took the mark, wouldn't she have told him? He has so many unasked questions for her, all of which would have to wait until later because of present company. He also wanted to charge back into that room and demand to know why from the source. He wanted to corner his brother to figure out if he had truly become everything Sirius despised. "I didn't know Regulus would… Would have…"

"Would have taken the mark?" Hermione answered for Sirius, causing him to flinch with her clipped tone. "Sirius, what the fuck did you think was going to happen with him? He's being raised by people who literally think I had mud in my veins. W-Who think I stole someone's magic," Hermione snapped, drawing herself to her full (albeit short) height in front of him, her wand still clutched in her right hand, as if she let it go she might slip into her own fears. No, she needed to keep her mind to the task. They were here to get that fucking diary and get out, and the sooner they did that, the sooner she could put kilometers between her and that evil bitch in the ballroom.

"None of us knew, mate," James voiced from behind Sirius' shoulder, trying to defuse the situation with a much calmer tone as he reached out to put his hand on Sirius' shoulder. James, an only child, would never understand the betrayal and pain Sirius was feeling. He had been raised by two loving parents, both of whom were on the side of light in this war. He was privileged, he knew that much, but he could sympathize. He had seen Sirius' relationship with his parents as its worst. He had been there to help pick up his belongings from Grimmauld Place's front yard when Walburga had her fits. He'd helped nurse a black eye and busted lip when Sirius got into a physical altercation with his father, and he would be there in the future to help him through whatever baggage his friend needed help unpacking.

Campfire eyes stayed locked on his girlfriend's, holding her ferocious gaze as his nostrils flared. The flames of fury licked at his soul, urging him to act rashly, begging for release, and just as suddenly as the anger appeared, it was gone. Doused under the cold water of James' touch, and suddenly Sirius was that same sixteen-year-old again, alone, standing in the Potters' formal dining room asking if he could stay, just for a couple weeks, so he didn't have to spend Yule without a home.

The broken man before her looked almost foreign. The impish spirit she almost always saw twinkle in his eyes was replaced by melancholy stars. Her stomach lurched, knowing that the cause of this painful confliction he felt was just on the other side of the double doors at the end of the hall. Sirius was not aware of Regulus' taking the mark, this much was apparent, but he was also unaware of what his brother's role would be in the future. He was unaware that the boy was so clearly working through his own issues. Regulus, just like Sirius, was a walking contradiction. Where Sirius used his friends and charm to hide his own brokenness, filling his time with pranks, women (or men) and never allowing himself to be alone so he would never have to face his issues, Regulus used knowledge and power.

"We..." Hermione began, taking a deep breath to try push her feelings aside. This wasn't about them right now. They could work on their inner turmoil later, and preferably from the safety of his flat in Puddlemere. Tonight was not about anything other than getting that fucking diary and beginning the process of collecting pieces of another broken wizard's soul. This was the one horcrux she had the least experience with, considering she had spent the better part of the year petrified in the infirmary, and although Harry and Ronald's account was helpful, she would be lying if she said she was not nervous. Would it sour their moods like the locket had done? Would it cast doubt between the group of friends? "Lucius walked into the room just as I left…We need to hurry. We need to find it and get out of here."

James nodded, sympathetic eyes flickering between his friend and her. "Sirius, if you need to leave we can do this. Hermione and I can do it on our own," he offered, dropping his hand from Sirius' shoulder so he could ruffling it through his unruly hair out of habit.

"No. I'll be fine…." Sirius replied quickly, glancing behind him to James who was watching him carefully, and he reached up to yank the ribbon holding back his shaggy locks, tossing it to the ground before he began to strip off his gloves. "Let's just go."

James took the lead down the rest of the narrow hallway, dodging the occasional house elf who passed with trays of beverages and food. When the hallway dumped them out in the back of the house, he paused a moment, glancing left and right before veering away from what they could assume was the kitchen as the sound of pots and pans clanging could be heard coming from behind a single swinging door.

The trio worked their way through the back of the house, towards the center. The farther they got away from the working quarters of the house the more extravagant it became. Walls that had been free of pictures were now littered with various portraits of deceased Malfoys and lush landscapes. The plain eggshell walls were replaced with wallpaper of beautiful rich filigree and texture that almost seemed to come alive as you walked past it. Even in their hurried state find the library, Hermione could not help but admire the occasional piece of artwork as they passed.

It was not until they made it through a sitting room in the middle of the house did she realise just where they were. She'd been here before. She could recognise the furniture and the smell, so floral it was nearly overpowering. As James lead them down another hallway and paused in front of what she knew to be the sitting room door, her heart stopped. "NO!"

Her mind swirled as flashbacks so vivid replayed in her head. The smells of Bellatrix's rancid breath, the feeling of the ice cold wooden floors against her back, the weight of the cursed blade as it sliced through her skin, and the burning that followed. She would never forget that burning. She felt as if every ounce of her being was aflame, her blood boiling as she writhed underneath the witch who was delighted with the pain she was causing. The effects of the Cruciatus that followed the knife wound still lingered with her to this day. She could cover up her arm, she would hide the slur that was banished across her skin from the world and she pretend to forget. Even if just for a moment. But the neurological damage could never be hidden. The way her hands would tremble after a long day, or the ache her spine felt on particularly cold mornings. And this did not even begin to touch on her nightmares. Something that had plagued her sleep up until she found solace in Sirius' arms. No, that room held more scars for her than just physical. She was not prepared to face that room again, not yet and possibly not ever.

At her sudden shout, James' hand pulled back from the doorknob quickly, jumping from the outburst. "What?" Hazel eyes blinked behind his thick-rimmed glasses at her, perplexed, his own heart beating a rapid fire pace beneath his chest.

"T-That's not it….That's not the library," Hermione stammered. She could feel Sirius narrow his eyes on her, trying to decipher her sudden fear and just as his mouth opened to question why, she moved past James and Sirius both, letting out a shaky breath once her back was to them. "It should be down here… On the left."

Sirius frowned, not moving after her as she continued down the hallway. How could she possibly know that? When he watched her move past the next set of several doors to open one near the end of the hallway his frown deepened. She held a familiarity with this home, this much as obvious, but she shouldn't. No Muggleborn would have never been willingly invited inside these walls. She mentioned Lucius' son helped her return to him, but that could not be why she knew the layout of this particular hallway. She had looked terrified when she recognized it, the color draining from her face and her eyes held a faraway look that he was all too familiar with, because he had worn it far too many times to count.

When Hermione slipped through the door at the end of the hallway, Sirius reached out and pushed open the forbidden one, letting it swing open as he stuck his head in the room. A drawing room, nothing particularly menacing about what laid in here. A long wooden table sat in the middle of the room; it looked as if it could easily seat twenty or more. Against the far wall was a hearth, the small flicker of dying flames simmering inside it, and on the wall were two large portraits of family long dead.

"Padfoot, come on!" James hissed at the end of the hallway, drawing Sirius' attention from the drawing room, and motioning for his friend to follow after him and into the library.

Campfire smoke eyes gave the room one last once over, as if it would reveal its secrets to him now that he was alone, but nothing stood out. Nothing that could easily explain her hasty insistence James not enter this particular room. He left the drawing room door open, not bothering to shut it behind him as he took off down the hallway, his loafers snapping against the stone as he jogged. As he entered the room his eyes were immediately drawn to Hermione, who had removed her cloak and rolled up the sleeves to her gown as she scanned the texts in the far corner of the room. It appeared as if she had already ordered James to the other side of the library in search of the diary, for he was on the opposite end from her, moving at a much slower pace.

Sirius moved quickly across the library, the small heel to his loafers clicking with each step as he approached the witch. "How did you know that wasn't the library, Hermione?" Sirius asked in a hurried whisper, glancing over his shoulder toward James to make sure he could not hear them across the room.

She glanced to Sirius out of the corner of her eye, her tongue darting out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. "Lucky guess." She crouched down, looking along the lowest shelf of the massive bookcase in front of her, finger walking along the spines. Transfiguration in the 1500's...no...Notable Conjurers from The Americas...no. Where was this fucking thing?

"Bullshit," Sirius hissed in return, his brow furrowing down to Hermione who was clearly trying to avoid his eye contact. "You've been here before, haven't you?" he questioned as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Hermione chanced a glance up to the wizard who looked resolved to have this conversation now, despite the fact they were quite possibly moments away from being found by Lucius. How could she even begin to explain what happened in this house to him? Sirius and Hermione both possessed demons. Demons that would take years to work through, and demons she was hellbent on erasing so they could technically not occur. The only problem was, that even if they were successful, even if they managed to pull off killing Voldemort, she would remember. She alone would remember a second war that never occured, which meant she would never be free of them. She was rescuing Sirius from his future pain, but her own would still linger in the back of her mind.

Setting her jaw, she put her hands to her thighs to help her as she rose to her full height, her spine straightening as she turned to face Sirius. "Sirius, I'm not doing this right now. You're upset about your brother and I'm not exactly keen to be here. Let's just find this bleeding diary so we can get out of here before Lucius finds us."

"You're not wanting to have this conversation because you kept this from me Hermione. You've been here and you're denying it. That's lying and you said you'd never lie to me." Sirius stood in her way, purposefully blocking her path from moving to the next bookcase. "What are you hiding? What is so fucking bad that you can't tell me?"

"Uhh.. What does this thing look like again?" James called from across the room, his lips pursing to the corner of his mouth as he pulled out an old-looking tome, opening the ancient text and as Textbook Moth's fluttered up from the ancient pages to reveal printed text as opposed to handwriting he closed it with a snap before placing it back.

"Black. Plain black diary!" Hermione shouted back to James as she shouldered past Sirius to move to the next row in the library. Her hands began to tremble as her heart raced. She could feel tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she tried to move away from Sirius. She couldn't do this. Not in this fucking house. She had shed too many tears in this home and she did not want to give it any more. "Sirius, we can't do this now... Not here."

"The fuck we can't! You need to start being honest with me, Hermione! Why have you been here!" he returned, hot on the witch's heels as he followed her. His tenacity was something that had gotten him in trouble before, and it certainly looked like it was doing his relationship no favors now, but this was...unlike her. This wasn't the Hermione he knew.

"Accio Diary!" James flicked his wand through the air, and when nothing came floating out of the shelves towards him, he let out a frustrated sigh. Did she really expect him to look through all these books by himself?! "What was his name again? Tim Rydle?" James called over his shoulder.

"Tom Riddle," Hermione yelled across the library again, her hands clenching at her sides before releasing the tension as she took several deep breaths. It would be fine. They would find the fucking diary and get out. She could deal with his questions far, far away from this place. Just as she began to collect herself enough to start searching once more, she felt Sirius' hand on her shoulder and before she could react she was spun around to face her boyfriend.

"Let me go," she demanded, her voice quaking as she tried to shrug from his hold. "We need to find it so we can leave!" Reaching up her hands tried to pry his from her shoulders, and almost instantly the feeling became to much. Her eyes twinkled with the welling tears and brimming fear as she tried to hold his gaze, not daring to blink so they would not fall. As brave as her face was in this moment, her voice betrayed her. It gave way to the sense of fear that she had managed to keep at bay since she stepped foot in this house. She thought she could do it. She thought she could put on a brave face and push through the pain. For Sirius. For Harry.

"Hermione…What happened here?"

"I...I…" Hermione looked anywhere but at Sirius, because if she saw his determination change to pity she would never forgive herself. She didn't need his pity, nor anyone else's! She bore her scars proudly, no longer the scared little girl that she had been when she received them. A shaky hand lifted to push angrily at the tears that had begun spilling down her cheeks. "I got my fucking scar here, okay? The one on my arm. I got it here… in the drawing room."

"Got your scar?" Sirius repeated, his brow furrowing as he watched her battle her emotions. "Who gave it to you?... Was it Reg? I swear to fucking Merlin if it was him-" Is that why she didn't tell him? Merlin, if it was his brother he wasn't sure he could ever forgive him.

"No," Hermione breathed out with a hollow laugh, her eyes rolling a bit through her misery. "It wasn't your brother." Setting her jaw, she bit her tongue for a moment, wanting to choose her words carefully. When she finally allowed herself to look up at Sirius, she saw his own mixed emotions reflecting back at her. Anger, and sorrow. They were different sides of the same coin, her and Sirius. "Bellatrix…your cousin tortured me with the Cruciatus and then attacked me with a cursed blade. I don't glamor it because I want to remember… I can't glamor it, because if I had a choice I would have fucking hid it tonight." As she spoke she held her forearm, the scar peeking through her fingers as she tried to hide the shame she still felt about it. If she had only been brave enough, if Harry had never spoken his name, then they would have never been caught. The last two years of her life had begun to feel like a very large series of 'What If's', her time with Sirius included.

Sirius' face went blank. He felt the color began to drain away from his face as her words processed. His cousin, the bloody fucking sociopath had tortured her. His own flesh and blood had been the cause of that hateful slur permanently etched into her skin, a painful reminder that the world was full of terrible and awful things. He knew it had been a Death Eater, but… Bella? She was cruel, but he would have never thought even she was capable of such a heinous act.

"Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I'm fucking terrified because I'm back here and…and she's in the other room showing off her Dark Mark like it's a new tattoo. Like it's a fucking prize." Hermione shook her head, biting her bottom lip as she fought back more tears that threatened to fall. They couldn't do this, not here. Not now. She was still so fucking broken from her time spent in this house, as was Sirius about his own. They were both angry and scared for different reasons and lashing out. This wasn't working, and with their presence known in the house it was only a matter of minutes before Lucius found them. "Th-This was a mistake. We...We need to go. We can find another way."

James, who was still none the wiser to the emotional battle that was waging on between Sirius and Hermione, was scanning shelves near the entrance to the library. He had been mumbling the names of the texts as he scanned over them, occasionally pulling out a book to reshelve it with the spine facing the wall for no purpose other than to aggravate Lucius if he came looking for a book in the future. As he reached up for a thin volume on The Magical Properties of Moonstones, his hand froze mid-air as he heard a pair of voices echo down the hallway outside of the room.

"Theys came down here, Master." The trembling soprano of a house elf could be heard floating down the hallway.

"Why did you not stop them? What good are you to me if you cannot do well to protect this household?" came the clipped reply of Lucius. His voice unmistakable, James would have recognized the uppity aristocratic tone anywhere.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" James whispered as he began to back away the door quickly, stumbling over his feet in his retreat. This was not good; if Lucius came in here and found the three of them snooping about his library their intentions would be blown, and Voldemort was sure to retaliate if he knew that the Order was aware of dirty little secret. Withdrawing his wand from his pocket, he raised the mahogany and pointed it to the library door quickly. " _Colloportus!_ " the door gave an audible click, that James hoped would go unnoticed over the dressing down Lucius was giving to his House Elf, as it magically sealed itself before he spun around.

James darted across the room toward Hermione and Sirius. His loafers not able to gain much traction on the well oiled floor, he came sliding down the row they were in, hazel eyes wide. "He's down the hall!" James blurted out when they looked at him. He noticed the tear trails running down Hermione's cheeks, and the "Lucius…is in the hall. We gotta go."

Hermione's eyes flashed to James, watching as he gestured behind him to the direction of the door they had entered through and she whispered a soft curse under her breath. "Shit! That..That's the only way out!" Her mind began to swirl, thinking of ways they could leave the room without entering a firefight. Perhaps they could blast a hole in the back wall, after they had moved the texts from the wall, of course. As much as she hated this place and the heir to the Malfoy line, she knew the value of these ancient tomes. They couldn't very well blow them up. But that would take too long, to move them. Maybe they could jump out the window? The gardens outside were vast, and they could easily conceal themselves amongst the hedges.

"No it isn't," Sirius interrupted her run-away thoughts as he reached out, his fingers lacing into Hermione's that were still wet from pushing away her tears and he began to back out of the row. He could not fix her past, he could not take the pain away she had already lived and he obviously could not fix his family, but this, helping her right the future so no one else would have to go through what she did, this was something he could fix. "Grab the cloaks, Prongs," Sirius ordered as he picked up the pace, running towards the back of the library.

On reaching the far wall, Sirius's gray eyes scanned the texts, searching the shelves in front of him quickly. He knew it was this shelf, so where was it? It had been several years since he was in here, but he could clearly remember his father and Abraxas coming through the library to the secret study. It was there they could escape from their wives, and children. It was also a place where on occasion they would bring their more lascivious entertainment for the evening, should the need arise.

Just as the sound of the door handle jiggling began to echo across the suddenly silent room Sirius found it. Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. Under different circumstances he would have made a smart ass comment about the fact that there were many a Pureblood men who sullied themselves behind this hidden door with Halfblood women. Instead now he reached up and pulled the book to pop the hidden door.

Sirius ushered Hermione and James inside the secret room before sealing the door behind him. With a carefully placed silencing and locking charm on the room, Sirius took a deep breath before turning around. There was only one other exit from this room, which would lead back to the House Elf's tunnels. It was a narrow passage, but nothing worse than what he and James had been in before when at Hogwarts. In fact, if he remembered correctly, this one stood a least a head taller than the passage to Honeydukes, which mean they would not risk whacking their heads on tree roots while fleeing.

Hermione was leaning against a wingback chair, her hands sliding through her magically straight hair in what Sirius could only assume was an attempt to gather her bearings. Since their arrival everything had moved at a breakneck speed and she had put up a brave face to hide her emotions about returning to this vile place. Sirius' stomach nearly retched at the thought of what she had gone through in this very place. How stupid could he have been? He had been so consumed in his own demons that he missed hers entirely. He knew they did not have long, but the extra security of the silencing and locking charm would have bought them a few extra moments where he could make sure she was okay before they took their leave.

Moving across the small space to his girlfriend,he reached out to tip her chin up to their eyes could meet. His thumb brushed against her cheeks, sweeping the leftover tears from her skin. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms until he could take away her pain, but he knew Hermione would never allow it. She was tough, even through the overflowing emotions she currently felt. He'd been by her side for more than one fight by now to know the truth strength she possessed. She didn't need a knight in shining armor. She needed a partner. "We'll get her… You'll never have to worry about her again because we'll get her. Okay?"

Hermione nodded, sniffling back the last bit of tears that lingered in her eyes. "Okay," she whispered back, lifting her hand to rest over his on her cheek and when he leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead she knew this conversation wasn't over. Not by a long shot, but with present company in the room it made it difficult to further divulge. The sound of desk drawers rattling pulled both Hermione and Sirius' attention away from one another and directed it towards the lone wizard behind them.

James had been busying himself with looking through the various papers on the desk, trying to discern if they might give any pertinent information about future plans for Voldemort and his army of angry pillowcase-wearers, but all he could find were Gringott's statements (Yes, the Malfoys really did have as much money as claimed. No surprise there) and ledgers from their various investments (wineries, apothecaries and a single garment shop). It was only once he'd properly messed up the organised desktop that he realized they were in Malfoy's secret study, which meant somewhere in this very room was likely a very expensive bottle of Firewhiskey. He'd often flaunted his family's ability to acquire the most rare bottles while at school and well… if they weren't going to make it out of this house with the Diary, then he might as well knick a bottle or two of his good reserve just to spite the bellend. Yanking open the drawers on the left side of the desk, he only found various quills, inkpots, old letters and photographs.

"What are you doing, Prongs?" Sirius questioned, dropping his hand from Hermione's cheek.

"We're in his study, right? He's got to have a bottle or two of the good stuff in here. It would be a shame if someone happened to knick it," James explained offhandedly as he moved to the right side of the desk, beginning to open the drawers on that side.

"You're really going to look for his liquor right now?" Hermione questioned, her voice cracking just the slightest bit with disbelief as she watched him dig through the drawers.

"What? It's not like the wanker needs it," James scoffed, glancing up to Hermione over the thick rim of his glasses before he shrugged. "Besides the more I can do to make…" His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on a leather bound diary tucked in the far corner of the second drawer. The corners of the book were capped in gold, shimmering softly in the low lighting. Reaching out, he let his fingers brush across the smooth service and a strange bolt of energy nearly instantly shot up the length of his arm to his heart. This was it. This was the fucking diary. James removed his hand from the book's surface almost immediately, as if afraid to get any closer to the dark object, and he looked up to Hermione and Sirius, both of whom were still waiting for him to finish his last sentence. "Uh…It's here."

It's here...It's...IT WAS THERE! The words snapped like a rubber band in her mind and Hermione was instantly to her feet and moving across the small study. James slid back in his chair to make room for her as she rounded behind the desk, and when her chocolate brown eyes caught sight of the familiar diary she could not help the involuntary laugh that tumbled from her lips. Reliving this hell would not have been for nothing! They would leave here with one Horcrux in their possession and it was entirely because of James' need to fuck with Lucius. The Potters' rivalry with the Malfoys was clearly one both Harry and Draco inherited from their fathers and at this point in time Hermione could not have been more grateful.

"You're a stupidly brilliant man, James Potter. Daft but fucking brilliant." She praised the wizard, turning to press a large kiss on the side of his cheek before she reached into the drawer to snatch the diary that almost seemed to seep negative energy, as if it could sense that the people in the room were only seeking it to destroy it.

James, whose ego truly did not need stroking, flashed a toothy grin over to his friend. "Better be careful, Pads. Your girl might fancy me. Can't say I blame her. Once they've seen a Potter's brilliance, they can't help themselves."

"More like they run away," Sirius returned through soft laughter because despite the sour mood the evening had taken, it was a pure bit of luck James had been a nosey shit and they all knew it. Sirius moved across the room easy and bent at the waist to open the small half-door in the rear of the study. "Anyone else ready to get the fuck out of here?" Sirius questioned with raised brows as he glanced between the two who still stood at the desk eyeing the book in Hermione's hand cautiously.

"Wait… one more drawer!" James insisted, raising a single finger towards his friend before yanking open the last drawer to reveal several bottles of aged whiskey and a set of crystal tumblers. "Ah-ha!" Just as Hermione opened her beaded bag to place the diary inside, James' hand darted out to hold it open as he places the two bottles inside one by one. "Fucking prat, who needs four bottles of 350 year Ogdin's? It's almost like he wanted me to take it."

Under normal circumstances, Hermione might scold him, but considering the rollercoaster of emotions she was currently riding, she was not going to bother arguing. Especially considering she knew as soon as they made it safely back to the Potters' James would open one of the bottles and she was most certainly going to join in this evening.

Once the bottles and diary were tucked inside her bag, Hermione cinched it shut before hoisting the bag on her shoulder. James had set her cloak on the corner of the desk closest to the half-door Sirius was holding open. As she passed she grabbed it and carefully tied it around her shoulders before ducking into the small passage.

The three didn't dare speak as they wound through the servants' corridor, as if afraid breaking the silence would ruin the fates' intervention that had just occurred. It wasn't until they had reached the end of the passageway, which spilled them into the same corridor outside the kitchens they had just come from, did she finally risk breaking their silence. "James, you're carrying this bag home. It's not exceptionally heavy, but I can feel the bottle slosh around and it's throwing me off balance," she informed the wizard behind her.

She moved into the hallway, not bothering to look as she stepped from the darkened corridor, and just as she did, she ran face first into the chest of a finely dressed wizard. Her heart sputtered as she took several steps back to place distance between herself and whomever she had just ran into. "S-Sorry." When her eyes lifted to see who she ran into, her eyes widened. This was not going to be good.

Regulus Black. She had known what he looked like before spotting him across the room from his old pictures that Professor Slughorn kept and the occasional portrait in Grimmauld Place, but it did not prepare her for seeing him in person. He was smaller than Sirius, with the same beautiful gray eyes and ink-black hair. His face was a bit narrower, more pointy than chiseled like his brother's. He possessed an air of aristocracy about him that hid his decidedly less handsome features than Sirius'. When the beautiful gray eyes turned on her, she felt a spike of cold run through her, for they held no warmth that she was used to seeing in Sirius'.

"My, my. What do we have here? You shouldn't be back this way." His voice was thick, almost syrupy as he spoke. He looked down at Hermione with mixed amusement, cold gray eyes dancing across her face before he lifted the tumbler of Fire Whiskey he had been holding to his lips to take a sip. "And without your mask. You know the unveiling isn't for another couple hours."

"I-I was trying to find the loo…" Hermione mumbled through her lie as she took two large steps away from him. Looking over her shoulder to the passageway she came from, she watched as Sirius and James both stepped into the corridor and instantly froze when they saw the looming figure in front of her.

The effect of the brothers seeing one another was almost immediate. Like a cold winter breeze that rattled your bones and made you instantly aware you had left the window ajar. The small grin that had been tugging at Regulus' mouth as he looked over Hermione instantly vanished, his hand tightening its hold on the crystal tumbler. "What are-No, no you need to leave. You all need to leave now," Regulus demanded, his voice quivering with tampered anger and the slightest hint of fear.

Hermione nodded, turning from Regulus to move back towards James and Sirius. Reaching out her hand sought out Sirius' from his side, her finger-tips sliding against his already balled fist. "Let's just go, Sirius," she whispered before looking to James with pleading eyes to help her get Sirius out of this hallway as soon as possible. They were so close to leaving, they could not afford to get caught not. Especially not with the diary in their possession.

"Or what, Reg?" Sirius snapped, not moving despite James tugging on the back of his button-down to encourage him away from his brother. Sirius' eyes narrowed on the wizard and his lips curled in a very uncharacteristic manner. "What are you going to fucking do? Get Mummy to come help you like always? Or did taking the fucking mark make you realise you can't hide under her skirt anymore?"

"Sirius!" Hermione hissed, her brow furrowing. "Stop it, we're leaving!" She moved her hands up to his chest and gently pushed against his rigid form. She only succeeded in causing Sirius to stumble two paces back under her and James' efforts, his jaw setting with determination. "Sirius, please… We need to just go."

"I don't need to do anything, Si'," Regulus laughed hollowly, his head shaking head as he watched his brother fight to keep his ground despite his friends' encouragement. "They'll fucking find you and you don't want that to happen. What they'll do to traitors is far worse than the punishments Mum and Dad gave."

Sirius moved quickly, sidestepping in front of Hermione and shrugging out of James' grasp as he darted to his brother, his curled fist landing the first blow directly against his brother's nose. "You're a fucking COWARD!" Sirius shouted, his hair falling around his face as he landed another blow to the side of Regulus' jaw.

Regulus stumbled back against the wall. The crystal tumbler he was holding fell to the stone floor and shattered as he took the blows from his older brother. And just as suddenly as Sirius landed the blow, he began to fight back.

This was clearly not the first time the pair had forgone their wands to resort to a physical altercation, judging by the way they threw punches and elbows at one another, like years of pent up anger and hurt had reached a boiling point and this was the only way to solve it. Sirius had the advantage of height between the two, but Regulus has clearly been known to hold his own against the older wizard judging by the well timed blocks and jabs he was able to land.

James moved quickly, his wand drawn, and although the incantation could not be heard over the shouts of anger between the brothers, it was obvious what enchantment was used the second a thick stream of water erupted from his wand. Dousing the fighting men, it pushed Sirius and Regulus both against the wall as they lost the urge to beat each other into a pulp and instead try to shield the almost painful spray of water from them. Once they were clearly separated, James cast the disenchantment but still kept his Mahogany drawn on the thoroughly drenched Regulus. "Padfoot, we're leaving," James said crisply, hazel eyes glued to Regulus, watching to make sure he did not draw his own wand.

"I'm not going-"

"We're LEAVING!" James reiterated, his head snapping towards his friend. This was clearly not up for negotiation. Their welcome in this Manor was already thin to begin with, but clearly they had overstayed their time limit.

Hermione stepped forward, her boots sloshing through the puddle of water that each wizard stood in and she carefully approached her boyfriend, reaching out to take his hand before tugging him away from the wall.

"Do you know what those fucking people do, Reg? Those 'friends' you've made?" Sirius snapped, looking over to his little brother as he was tugged away from him, reaching up to wipe the back of his hand against his lip and spit the blood that had been collecting in his mouth on the floor.

"Shut up. Just fucking leave, Si!"

"Did you know they fucking kill little children!? Innocent fucking KIDS, REG! Is that really who you want to idolize?!"

"I said Shut UP!" Regulus shouted, his bruised fist hitting the wall behind him causing the stones to rattle. "You...You don't know anything, Sirius! You fucking took off and left me! You abandoned me the first chance you got! You saw a way out and took it without ever thinking about…about ME! What was I supposed to do?!"

"Maybe GROW A FUCKING SPINE!" Sirius shouted, beginning to tug at Hermione's hand to free himself of her hold so he could go back to his brother once more, the flares of rage flickering in his eyes.

James, who had only been a few paces behind Sirius and Hermione, stepped in front of his friend, his hand going to his chest to roughly shove him back down the hall. "Knock it off. We need to fucking go before we get caught," He reminded his friend, a frown masking his usually happy features.

Sirius set his jaw, gray eyes flickering between his friend and his brother in an internal debate before a growl in frustration was let loose and he turned his back to his brother, roughly shoving himself free from James as he stalked towards the kitchens on the heels of a House Elf, who was trying its best to avoid getting in the way.

Hermione stood frozen a moment, watching as Sirius roughly shoved the swinging door to the kitchens open while James followed, close to his heels. This confrontation, unfortunately, would not be the last between the pair. That much she knew for certain, especially considering Regulus' involvement with the Locket. Reaching up she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she moved after James and Sirius, 0nly her footsteps and the soft sound of the House Elves in the kitchen providing the soundtrack to her escape from the corridor.

As her hand went out to push against one of the swinging doors, she heard the sound of bitter sobs from where she had just come and she looked over her shoulder. The bruised wizard had slipped down to the floor, leaning back against wall as his hands came up to cover his face to hide the tears that fell. There was nothing she could say to Regulus that would not give away her secrets, nor that would make the youngest Black boy understand. He needed to process his own feelings regarding Voldemort, his family, and his brother on his own. He needed to form his own opinions about the validity of Voldemort's teachings and see through the promises of power and wealth.

She couldn't help but see similarities between the broken wizard in the middle of the hallway and one she had known her entire adolescence. Both boys were born into privilege with families who spouted Pureblood ideologies, both took the Mark at sixteen, and in this very moment, she could see the same cracks in foundation she recognised in Draco. The same doubt that washed over his face when he thought no one else could notice. Except this time, she knew that expression Regulus held far too well. This time she could recognize the signs of a broken little boy, searching for his way out. Searching for a way to save himself and his family. And for a moment, her mind flickered with hope. Because if what she was seeing was the true Regulus, then it was possible that she might be able to save one more life before she returned to 1999.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I have been nominated for Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook's Summer Awards 2018 in the Lost In Time category. Thank you to everyone who voted for me in this category and has stuck with this story!! There are so many great stories in the Lost in Time Category and I am beyond humbled to be placed in there. If you're curious about the other amazing categories or want to vote for Right the First Time in the Lost in Time category use the link below:
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> h t t p s://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSf9h-zaH8sTTErFV0GU_R1bCLNUDW-HszRzcuHJ7Ikk3lCZbA/viewform


	37. Unspoken Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**October 5th, 1979 - Godric's Hollow - 18:53**

Hermione took the stairs leading up to the second floor of Godric's Hollow quickly, her hand sliding across the banister to help stabilize her as she moved towards the master bedroom. It had been nearly a week since she'd seen her friend and she was eager to have some girl time before the Order meeting began. She never realised how close she had been to the few female friends she had back in 1999 until she was forced to share a tent with Harry and Ronald for months on end in 1998. It became painfully aware back then that the personal habits of her two friends differed from hers greatly. Living with Sirius and Remus was no exception to this fact as well.

The boyish banter, the messy living room, all of the little things added up to remind her that she was most certainly missing some female influence in her life. Which was why she had convinced her boyfriend and Remus to show up to the Potter residence an hour early.

The door was slightly ajar, soft lighting from inside spilling out into the hallway. Hermione lifted her hand and rapped it against the door. "Lily?" Hermione called out as she carefully opened the door, taking a tentative glance inside to make sure the witch was decent. "You in here?"

"Just in here, Hermione. Come in!" she called, popping her head out from the bathroom where she held a dark brown eyeliner pencil in her hand. She had successfully outlined one eye with the makeup and was about to start on the second when Hermione's voice pulled her from her concentration. "Is it already eight?"

"No. We're early," Hermione explained as she crossed the threshold into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. "I've been meaning to come catch up with you, but our time tables don't seem to match up." Hermione eyed the room as she spoke, paying close attention to the moving photographs that lined the top of the dresser next to Lily' perfume bottle. She had seen most of them before, but it didn't stop the happy feelings that bubbled up at their images. So happy, young. No war, or at least no public one. Hermione envied their youth, for they actually got to experience the normalcy of attending Hogwarts without having a price on their heads.

"I know! Flourish and Blott's is keeping me busy. Venable has upped everyone's hours with the holidays coming up and… Well I know James' parents have offered to give us access to their vaults but we'd rather not if we can help it," Lily explained.

"Don't be sorry for having a job, Lily," Hermione teased. Moving to fit on the foot of James and Lily's bed, her hands dropped to either side of her, letting her fingers brush against the soft comforter as she looked to the bathroom where Lily was still leaned over the counter, carefully applying her makeup. "Although, I do have to admit. I am extremely envious you get to work in a bookshop. When I was younger I dreamed of working there."

Lily snorted, tucking her eyeliner back in her makeup bag before fishing out her blush compact and brush. "Why does hearing that not surprise me? If anyone would enjoy alphabetizing and sorting texts it would be you, Hermione. Although, Remus is a close second." Lily lightly applied the soft pink to her cheeks, carefully turning her head in either direction to make sure it was applied evenly before she closed the compact with a snap.

"Hey! Just because we have an appreciation for the written word-" Hermione began, laughing as she glanced over to her friend who was now leaning on the doorjamb of the bathroom, applying a thin layer of crimsoned chapstick.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I was just making an observation." Lily smirked, sliding the tube of chapstick into the front pocket of her jeans. "If you love it that much, I could always put in a good work with Venable. We're looking for some more help before the Merlin's Day sale at the end of the month."

As nice as it sounded, to have some normalcy to her time here, she knew the offer was one she could never accept. It was bad enough that the entire Order knew her name and what she looked like; she did not need the rest of the public to remember her. Not when in eleven months she would be disappearing for nearly twenty years! "I wish I could, but my work is with the Order," she declined, offering a small smile to Lily as the redhead sat down on the bed next to her.

"Yeah? Alright. It's probably for the best anyway," Lily sighed before flopping back on her mattress, sending her pin-straight hair astray against the comforter. "Venable can be a bit of an arse and the pay is shit. Besides, MACUSA probably doesn't want an Auror on their payroll peddling books."

"Not unless I was capturing some Dark Wizards in the process, and for some reason I cannot picture Voldemort strolling through Diagon Alley to do his Yule shopping." Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the idea. Though the mental image of the Voldemort she knew-noseless, pale and snakelike-was still bone chilling, the idea of him wrapped in a Weasley sweater while he did his holiday shopping tickled her a bit.

"No, I'm sure he sends his cronies for that," Lily agreed.

"Speaking of shopping," Hermione reclined back on her elbows on the bed next to the red headed witch, her fingers plucking idly at the comforter. "I've tried stopping at several Apothecaries to buy a Monthly potion but they've been out. Something about a couple bad shipments of Ashwinder Eggs. You don't happen to have one I can borrow, do you?"

"I have one you can have, but I'd really not like it back," Lily glanced at Hermione out of the corner of her eyes as she smirked, and when Hermione's lips lifted in a small grin as she shook her head, clearly catching the (terrible) joke, Lily slipped her wand from her pocket to accio the vial from her medicine cabinet. As it floated into the bedroom she caught it with her non-dominant hand and held it out to Hermione. As the curly-haired witch reached to take the purple potion from her, she pulled it back toward herself quickly, her brows wagging at her friend. "But before I give this to you...I do have to ask something."

"Uh.. Okay?"

"Remus mentioned you two seem rather fond of bedroom-"

"Godric Gryffindor, Lily please don't finish that sentence!" Hermione interrupted, her hand darting out to cover Lily's mouth. "Sirius and I… do enjoy our alone time. Yes." She chose her words carefully, and the soft blush that had begun to twinge her cheeks blossomed more. "Which is why I am needing a potion."

Lily lifted her hand, her fingers curling around Hermione's small wrist to gently tug it from covering her lips. "I wasn't going to tease. What you two do is really none of my business." Setting the vial on the bed between the two of then, she nudged the round bottle so it would roll towards her. "I was just going to say since you two spending so much time together, I was curious if you thought about your future."

Hermione picked up the potion, brown eyes watching the purple liquid inside shimmer as it rolled around inside the glass container. Her future? Oh, that was rich. All she had thought about since January first was her fucking future. "Of course I have."

"And…"

"And I have a great job that holds lots of potential. I enjoy what I am going...when I am actually at work that is." Technically, not lies. Yes, the job she was referring to was twenty years in the future and most definitely not in the United States, but Lily did not need to know those details right? "I suspect in about five or so years I will move out of the field and into management." Again, all true. Hermione knew the timeline for her fieldwork was only between five to seven years, max. If she planned to work up to Minister of Magic, like how the first Kingsley had, she knew she needed to move into leadership roles before long. With the threat of Voldemort gone, it was only a matter of time before a new Dark Wizard took his place, and she wanted to be far away from chasing down bad guys when that time came. She had seen enough bloodshed to last her a lifetime.

Lily gave her friend a blank stare as a thin red brown lifted at her in disbelief. "Not about the future of your career, Hermione. Merlin! I meant about your future with Sirius."

Hermione looked up from her potion with a knitted brow. A future with Sirius? "Oh.. Umm… Well.." Hermione's hand lifted from the mattress to tug nervously at the tips of her shoulder-length curls. "Yes….er...Maybe?"

"It's really not a hard question, Hermione." Lily laughed, rolling onto her side and propping her chin against her hand as she leaned on her elbow facing Hermione. "Do you think you have a future with Sirius?"

Technically speaking, yes. Hermione knew she had a future with Sirius. He was in her life from thirteen to sixteen, but beyond that? Well that was still an uncertainty. If her question had been would she like a future with Sirius, then Hermione could have answered it far easier than the one posed, but Lily didn't know the complications that existed in their relationship. In its present form, her future with Sirius was murky, at best. They had successfully retrieved one Horcrux, which was better than none, but they had yet to find a way to destroy it. They had not heard from Hagrid after their visit, and it was not like they had many connections in the seedy world of underground Magical Creatures dealings. It needed to be destroyed beyond magical repair, which kind of left them with only a few viable options at best: Fiendfyre, Basilisk venom, Nandu breath, and Manticore poison, the last two t being entire speculation because there was not documented research on destroying parts of human souls.

"Yes, I do see myself having a future with Sirius," Hermione looked over to the witch whose smile seemed to grow at her words, which only caused her blush to deepen. "Merlin's pants, Lily, stop looking at me like that!"

"I'm not looking at you any way! I am just… happy, that's all." Lily corrected her friend, her hand shoving her waist-length hair over her shoulder. "It's nice to have a witch to hang around with. Muggleborn, even, so I don't have to explain everything in detail like I have to with Alice. Can you believe she didn't know what a jimmy was?!"

"Uh, yes. Yes I can because it wasn't like they exactly taught sex ed at Hogwarts, Lily!" Hermione laughed, her nose wrinkling. "Could you honestly imagine McGonagall trying to teach the practices of safe sex?"

Lily's hand rested against her face as she fell into a fit of giggles, her teeth biting on her plump lower lip as she tried to regain her composure. "No, but it's not just me that's happy, you know? Sirius hasn't been this happy in ages...if ever to be honest. I mean don't get me wrong, he was happy with Remus but it's different now. He's got this… lighter energy about him. Not entirely sure it's a good thing considering how absolutely daft he can be, but it's nice to see him smiling again… Actually smiling, not just putting it on for James and Peter."

Hermione nodded, chewing on the corner of her lip. Arthur had told her something similar during their time in Germany. That Remus and Sirius weren't meant to be, and it was obvious once he'd seen her and Sirius that they were a much better pairing. Kind of odd, to think that her one-time future boyfriend's father had implied that her relationship with Sirius made sense. She would being lying if she said she disagreed, because everything about her time with Sirius felt right. When they were together she could forget about her problems; he made her feel whole. Like she had gone her entire life missing a piece of her heart and suddenly the world made sense, and wasn't that what love was supposed to feel like?

"So you'd marry him, then?" Lily's question pulled Hermione from her thoughts instantly, grounding her from her speculation about how love was supposed to feel.

"Excuse me?" Hermione coughed, her hand going up to cover her lips as she looked to the ceiling, averting her gaze from the inquisitive redhead beside her. What was up with this witch and asking the hard questions tonight?! She was just wanting to come spend some time with someone who did not laugh at fart jokes, not fortell her future and divulge all her secrets about her relationship. "Lily, I'm not sure I can answer that. We've only been dating a couple months."

"And? There's a war going on, Hermione. If something is right, then you have to just go with it because…" Lily shrugged, looking down at the bedspread between them, letting her hand smooth against the fabric. "Because there might not be a lot of time left, right? I mean… look what happened to Arthur… and last week Goldstein got put in St. Mungo's. We didn't even know about that attack, he just happened to be in Muggle London and..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head, as if deciding that the story didn't need to continue from there. She knew Hermione already knew-he'd seen the headline just like the rest of them-but what the paper didn't print was that Goldstein had managed to save ten Muggles before succumbing to the modified hexing slice that nearly split him in two. The Healers had barely been able to stitch him back together in time. He was lucky to be alive. "It might feel fast, but if it feels right then, why not?"

Time. Oh, what a fickle beast time was. Hermione had always loved time, even as a child, but now, she had begun to resent the ticking clock. She knew Lily was right. If something was right, then she had to go for it. This was exactly the same line of thinking that got her in this predicament right? "If we are going to use that logic," Hermione began, carefully spacing her words out as she tried to wrap her thoughts around what a future would look like for her and Sirius. Eventually she was going to go back to 1999 for good, and then what? If he was there he was going to be twenty years her senior, and would a forty-year-old wizard truly be interested in a twenty-year old-witch? He would have seen so much already, not that she was exactly inexperienced! Would he have moved on and found a new love? It was very possible, and she would never have blamed him. Twenty years to wait is an extraordinarily long amount of time, but in the same breath, she knew that she would be with him, if given the opportunity. She had fallen in love with Sirius in his youth, the wild restlessness that was his soul, but in this time she had also come to love the man he was when she was young. Even from her new past, the one she created with Harry and Neville, she could see his addictive personality through the photographs. So would she marry him, if given the opportunity? "I…I would. I would marry him, but not right now. Not until this mess is settled."

Lily let out a squeal muffled by her bitten lip, as her emerald eyes danced. "I knew it! I told James you two fancied each other like that. He didn't disagree, but he said you wouldn't. Something about being too smart for Sirius, but I knew it! You look at him the same way, you know? Doe-eyed and full of hope."

Hermione snorted, reaching over to push against the witch's shoulder. "Please stop. I swear to Merlin, if you tell a soul I will deny it and tell them you took me back here to talk about future Potter babies."

Lily gasped, swatting at Hermione. "Don't you give James any ideas!" She laughed as she pointed her finger at Hermione who innocently shrugged. Seconds later, the sound of a soft knock on the door broke through their quiet laughter. "Yes?"

The door creaked open to reveal Remus leaning against the door jamb, his sandy blonde fringe hanging just in his jade green eyes. "I was sent to let you both know your presence was requested in the living room. Peter and the twins have arrived. Mad-Eye should be here shortly and from what they say, he's in rare form tonight."

"I'm not sure how they could tell. He's always a bit of an arse," Hermione snickered as she pushed herself up from laying back on James and Lily's bed before standing up to straighten out her clothing.

"Now, now, Time-Lord. Mad Eye isn't always grumpy," Remus clicked his tongue at Hermione. "He was almost pleasant at the Summer Solstice cook-out this year."

"Yes, but that's because he sent three people to Azkaban before showing up. And then he quickly consumed half a bottle of Hellhounds Vodka when he showed up," Lily explained through choppy laughter as she exited the bedroom after Hermione, her arm sliding around Remus' waist so they could walk down to the living room together.

"Well, you never specified he needed to not be drunk." Remus' arm rested on Lily's shoulders as they walked down the hallway towards the living room.

Hermione was the first down the stairs, socked feet padding softly against their carpet, and as she descended she caught sight of Sirius, James and Peter in the back of the room sitting on chairs from the dining room that James had brought in when the guests started to arrive. When Peter's soft brown eyes lifted from his drink towards her, she lifted a hand in a small wave.

She wasn't entirely sure where her stance on Pettigrew lay. She could sense him already slipping away from his friends, but how far into the fold of the Death Eaters he had already fallen she was unsure. Was it possible to save him as well? Or was it already too late? If she outed his future to Sirius and Remus, she was sure to alienate him from his friends, which would do little to save him. She was sent back to save lives, so could his be included? These were all questions she had not pondered yet because, well, he was nearly never around long enough for her to get a proper bead on his intentions.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, pretty lady?" The thick drawl of Fabian pulled her attention away from the mousey man in the back of the room. Fabian rose from his spot on the couch, carefully setting his bottle of beer down on the coffee table before he moved closer to Hermione.

"Hermione Granger, we heard you were back. Figured Black had you tied to his bed post which is why you had not come to visit us yet," Gideon chimed in from over his shoulder as he moved to follow his brother to they could greet the petite witch.

"You know him too well," Hermione returned with a smile before giving each brother a warm hug. She had not seen the brothers since Arthur's funeral and from the looks of it, each had changed dramatically. Gideon and Fabian both had shaven the scruffy beards that had once graced their handsome faces and she was surprised to see how much of a resemblance they had to their twin nephews. It was not identical, but the familial ties were undeniable. "How are you two? How is Molly? I've been meaning to check in on her."

"Molly's good, the kids are good. We moved into the Burrow once she started her business. Needed help with the boys; the little tykes can be a bit wild at times," Fabian explained, his hands sliding into the two pockets on the front of his vest as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"Business? What is she doing?" Hermione questioned curiously. Molly Weasley was not exactly an entrepreneur when she had know her last. She liked to cook, was terribly busy tending after her brood and generally had to keep her husband from blowing up the house (and/or himself). Starting a business was most certainly not on the busy mother's radar, but then again, perhaps it had been a secret desire? Or maybe it was just a means to provide for her sons now that her fate had changed. Whatever the case was, Hermione was intrigued. If Molly opened a shop, then Hermione might be able to go visit, even if to just catch a small glimpse of her once mother figure.

"Oh you haven't heard? She opened up a yarn shop in the Alley."

"Yarn boutique," Fabian corrected from over his brother's shoulder as he glanced over his shoulder to his twin before back to Hermione.

"Right, we're supposed to call it a boutique." Gideon shrugged before moving to sit down on the couch. "I couldn't tell you the difference between a shop, a store or a boutique but apparently these things matter to witches."

"Well, they do technically mean different things." Hermione laughed, watching as Fabian settled back onto the sofa next to his brother and elbowed him in the ribs before gesturing to Hermione.

"See! Told you so," Fabian exclaimed before shaking his head. "And he thinks himself a ladies' man. He's not in touch."

"You call reading Witch Weekly in-touch?" Gideon snorted, reclining back in the cushions of the sofa so he could let his arm rest on the back of the furniture. "Ignore him. He thinks because he helped come up with the name he deserves an award or something."

"Ahh." Hermione nodded, trying her best to hide her amusement at the brothers' banter as she moved to an open lounge chair across the table from them. She couldn't help but notice the similarities between the Prewitt twins and the Weasley brothers she knew. It was apparent the whimsical demeanor that Fred and George were known for was a family trait from their mother's side. "What's it called then? I've got a bit of shopping to do down in the Alley later this week."

"Weasley's Wooly Wonders, but don't let the name fool you. She carries more than just wool. You fancy yourself a knitter, Hermione?" Fabian questioned, giving her a sly smirk.

"Hermione might be a lot of things, but I doubt art of knitting is something she has added to her resume," Sirius interrupted the conversation as he approached the three from the behind. Moving around the coffee table towards the armchair Hermione had claimed, he plopped onto the overstuffed arm.

"Excuse you, _Mr. Black_. I know how to knit. My mother taught me when I was twelve over summer holiday," Hermione explained as she crossed her arms over her bust to give her boyfriend a matter-of-fact look. "Although we are dating, you don't know everything about me."

Fabian and Gideon both chuckled under their breaths, watching as Sirius raised his brows almost defiantly towards his girlfriend. "Is that so? Well enlighten me, _Miss Granger_ , what have you knit before?" Sirius challenged.

The look of confidence faltered ever so slightly on her face at his question and she glanced between the twins, who were waiting with bated breath for her answer, and her boyfriend who looked far too eager for his own good. "Scarves," She answered honestly, tongue darting out to run across her bottom lip.

"..and?"

"...Other flat panels….Look I said I could, not that I was an expert!" Hermione defended as the twins erupted with laughter. Her progression past the quick knitting of a scarf or small blanket was not successful. Her mother had tried to teach her how to knit a small pair of booties but her desire to sit and listen quickly diminished because she had just picked up her textbooks for the new term at Hogwarts and could not wait to dive into Lockhart's required reading list.

Sirius let loose his own throaty laughter as he reached out to pull his girlfriend into his lap as he slipped down off the arm of the overstuffed chair and into the seat. "Well now that I know you are an expert scarf maker I must demand one for Yule. My year would not be complete without a personally hand knit scarf," he teased as he slipped his hands under the side of her shirt to tickle the soft skin below her ribs.

"Alright, Black. Hands where we can see them," came the gruff order from the back of the room and the steady thump of Alastor Moody's cane hitting the ground with each hobbled step echoed through the house. He looked nearly the same since Hermione had seen him last, with the only exception being that his strawberry blond hair seemed to be thinning at the crown of his head. He moved quickly into the living room, grunting a hello to James and Lily as he passed the pair.

"Alastor…did you come in through the rear?" James asked, confused as he looked over his shoulder to the back of his house before back to Moody who was transfiguring an ottoman into a chair for him to sit on. "You are aware we have a front door, right?"

"Yes, yes, Potter. But you expected me through the front, did you not?" Alastor questioned, his magical eyes swirling wildly in its socket. "Always need to keep you guessing. It's when people expect your next move that you get into trouble."

"The dangers of using the front door, yes. I've heard about these before Mad-Eye," Sirius snickered, pressing his mouth into Hermione's shoulder to try and smother his smile from the gruff Auror. "It's almost as bad as watering your lawn, or walking on the sidewalk. Absolutely devastating."

Hermione's hand lifted, her fingertips pressing against her lips as she tried to suppress her own laughter as she watched Alastor's cheeks redden in a familiar rage.

"That's quite enough, Black!" Moody quipped, his face souring as Sirius gave an innocent shrug to him. "Let's make this quick. I've got reports to write before the night is through." Shifting in the magicked chair to get comfortable, his wooden leg propped straight out in front of him, Alastor leaned back to cross his hands over his stomach before beginning into the accounts of the past two weeks that the Ministry was able to pick up on, and quickly sweep under the rug.

* * *

**October 5th, 1979 - Godric's Hollow - 20:45**

The meeting had gone as planned, with directives for the next two weeks set, as well as patrols assigned. Peter had surprised nearly everyone in the room by agreeing to solo duty in the small Wizarding village of Hag's End for the next two weeks. With duties designated, Moody was all too willing to take his leave from the house of what he called 'overgrown children'. It seemed he was not fond of occasional banter between the Prewitt twins and the Marauders, all of whom were willing to take cheap shots at the seemingly bizarre nature that was Alastor Moody's entire being.

Shortly after Moody's departure from the Potter residence (out the front door this time), the Prewitt brothers followed, as they had an early shift of watching the Weasley boys while Molly opened up the shop. Which left Remus, Sirius, Hermione and Peter as the houseguests for James and Lily to entertain.

Sirius was still in the armchair, his arms wrapped around Hermione who sitting sideways across his lap so her legs draped over the arm of the chair. "So you're really okay with solo duty up in Hag's End, Wormtail?" Sirius questioned as he spun a brown ringlet of Hermione's around his finger. "It's a bit far from London. The only thing out that way is a few wizarding homesteads."

"It'll be fine. I've b-been needing a bit of a break from the Apothecary," the mousy brunette explained, fingers carefully picking at the label on the bottle of butterbeer he held. "It'll be nice to get away from the city for a bit."

"I'm honestly a bit shocked, Peter. I mean with the busy season picking up, I would think your Mum and Dad would be irate you were leaving the shop." Lily lifted her own bottle of pumpkin ale to her lips to take a small sip before nestling the cold bottle back between her knees. "Honestly, James can pop out there with you for a bit if you'd like. I don't mind."

"Yeah, maybe we all can go. Chase the moon around like old times," James offered, wagging his brows to his friends as he reached out to pull Lily's feet that were tucked under his thigh into his lap, his large hands wrapping around her socked toes. "Full moon's only a week away."

"Oh that could be fun. I bet the Savernake Forest hasn't seen the likes of a proper werewolf in a while," Sirius chimed in, glancing down to Hermione in his arms. "You wouldn't mind if Moony and I popped away for a night or two for a Lad's camping trip, would you Little Bird?"

Before Hermione could answer, Peter, seemingly off-put by the idea of having company, let out a small noise in distress. "No, no. We couldn't possibly!" he protested, beedy eyes glancing between his friends, who were already beginning their plans without his consent. It was only when James and Sirius began to discuss the possibility of stopping by the adjacent Muggle village to get dinner before their potential forest frolic that Peter snapped. "I said no!" he yelled over the banter of his friends, his fingernails digging into the soft paper label on the glass bottle. He looked like a string wound too tight, finally at its breakpoint as it began to fray. "I-I want to do it alone...It's a bloody fucking solo mission for a reason."

Hermione's brow lifted to her hairline as the room went silent at his outburst, watching as the young Peter Pettigrew purposefully avoided his friends' gaze, his eyes plastered to the carpet as he took several deep breaths. It was also as if he was building up the courage to do something. Shifting on Sirius' lap she carefully dropped her feet to the floor so she could slide off his lap more easily should this outburst turn into something more.

"Alright Pete. Sorry, mate. We just figured you might want some company." Sirius was the first to break the silence, his hand sliding from Hermione's hair to rest on the arm of the chair as he straightened his spine to sit a bit taller. Wormtail had always been the more sensitive one of their group, this was something they were all aware of, but they had always done their best to make sure he was never walked over. Even in this instance, there was no ill intent on them wanting to join their friend for this mission. Sirius knew first hand the risks of going alone on these missions; it wasn't something he would wish upon anyone, let alone Peter.

"Yeah… We didn't think you were keen on doing it alone," James tried to explain, hazel eyes softening on Peter.

"Well that's the problem isn't it? No one ever bothers to ask my opinion," Peter murmured, letting his eyes lift to James' as his mouth thinned into a hard line.

"Wormtail, it wasn't like that…We just thought you might want company is all." Remus reached out, his hand coming to rest on Peter's shoulder, who nearly instantly shrugged away from him.

"If I wanted company I would have asked! You lot just… just don't listen to me, never fucking have. It's always been about you all. I'm… I'm sick of being put last!" Peter snapped, reaching out to set his bottle rather harshly down on the table in front of him, causing a bit of the ale inside to splash on the coffee table out of the neck of the bottle.

"Whoa! Wormie, where is this coming from, mate?" Sirius looked taken aback, pure shock on his face as he watched Peter stalk towards the coatrack to retrieve his tattered frock coat. Sure, Peter had always been the quiet one of the group, and at times they might have let their needs be placed ahead of his, but he was a Marauder just the same as the rest of them. Surely he knew that they would never purposefully ignore him.

James patted on Lily's legs until she lifted them from his lap and he got up from the couch, moving after his friend. "Peter, stop this. What's going on?" James attempted to quell Peter's retreat by setting a hand on his shoulder which only made the smaller brunette lurch away from him.

"What's going on? What's going on?! You guys have treated me like a sidekick for...for ages and now that I speak up for myself something's wrong. Ha! That's rich." Peter let out a hollow laugh, his hand coming up to rub against his gaunt face. "You don't think I haven't noticed? You all meet up without me-"

"Peter, that isn't fair. We invite you but you never come. You're always working," Lily piped up from the couch, her concern written across her face as plain as day.

"You all have made it clear my services in our circle of friends are not needed any longer." Peter's voice held a crisp definitiveness to it that couldn't help but make Hermione wonder if this was something he had been planning for a while. Like he was just waiting for the perfect moment to break up with his group of friends.

"What are you trying to say, Wormtail?" Sirius questioned, aghast. This truly couldn't be happening, could it?! Peter was...Peter was a Marauder. The oath they had taken their Third Year couldn't be severed because he felt alienated, especially when his own schedule was the reason he felt so withdrawn from them.

"Yes, Peter. What the fuck are you trying to say? Because it sounds like you're… You're trying to break up with us or something?" Remus added, rising from the armchair he was settled into to move up beside James, jade green eyes brimming with confusion and the unmistakable mask of pain. Too many people had walked out of his life already, but surely Peter would not join this list, right?

"Maybe that's what I'm doing… I-I-I don't know. I just… I need some time away. I need some time to think if this friendship is really beneficial for me b-because where I am standing it feels an awful lot like you lot don't care about my well-being!" Peter stammered.

His line was too rehearsed; Hermione could see right through his words. The way his fingers on his right hand trembled just slightly enough to let her know that there was an ache in his forearm. She could remember Professor Snape's doing the same on the nights when Voldemort summoned them. And of course, there was the fact that despite the heavy implication of the words, they did not meet his eyes. No, he wasn't just coming up with this line of thinking. This had been fed to him, repeated until the wizard had begun to believe the lies that had been spun for him. He was already gone. His allegiance was not with the people who loved him most.

As Peter took his exit, James, Remus and Sirius quickly moved to follow, leaving Hermione and Lily in the living room in a pregnant silence. Lily, although not technically part of their little clique, obviously felt an attachment to the group of friends, for silent tears spilled down her cheeks as the redhead tried to process the fight that seemingly occurred out of nowhere.

Hermione moved to the sofa next to her, reaching out to carefully pull the red headed witch into a hug. One hand stroked her upper back while the other rested on the on the back of her head as she felt hot tears seep into the shoulder of her shirt. "It's okay, Lily," Hermione soothed, brown eyes glued to the front window of the living room, watching as the men outside continued the row with the fleeing Peter. "It'll be okay. He just need some space. He'll come around."

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, like a under ripe fruit. She hated herself for the lie, but it was necessary to soothe her upset friend. Because what she knew in that moment was she was never going to let Peter in on their Order meetings again. His actions tonight spoke louder than the animagus had realised and she would do everything in her power to make sure he stayed far away from Lily and James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thank you to Islandgurl777, beta extraordinaire and my lovely lovely friend. This would not be possible without her!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Until next week. xx


	38. Another Trip Around The Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters are not of my own creation, just me leveraging their existence from a lovely witches work, JK Rowling.

**November 3rd, 1979 - Puddlemere - 18:00**

The days following Peter's less than pleasant departure from the Potters' residence were ones Hermione was not particularly keen on reliving. Sirius and Remus were both on edge as they tried to determine the breaking point of their friendship. Hermione remained silent during their analysis, instead opting to busy herself with research on Horcrux destruction methods since it appeared as if Hagrid was unsuccessful in obtaining a basilisk fang, seeing as none of the residents from the Puddlemere flat had heard from the groundskeeper.

Sirius seemed to be taking Peter's fight the hardest, shouldering most of the blame in some sort of self-imposed penitence for his years of playfully teasing Wormtail. He lashed out at Hermione only once, when she seemed not to take the news of Peter's departure with anything but apathy and cautious sympathy for Sirius and Remus. Remus, surprisingly, was quick to defend the curly-haired witch. He pointed out her relationship with Peter, or lack thereof, and how he had been distancing himself from the other Marauders well before Hermione tumbled back through time like some sort of fucked up Alice in Wonderland.

By the time Sirius' birthday came about, the wizard was intent on canceling the normal celebration that the group of friends had, stating that without Peter it just would not be the same. But after some careful persuasion from Hermione, she had convinced him that this party was actually just what the group needed. The war was raging on around them, and from the looks of it, it was not going to stop anytime soon. More reports of injuries and deaths were reported across Great Britain, and even some curious events from the Irish Ministry were reaching their newspapers. It appeared as if Lord Voldemort's reach was going farther than most had assumed.

Knowing the horrors that the group of friends was facing, this party was needed, not just because they should celebrate Sirius turning twenty, but because they needed a reprieve from the harsh reality of what was happening. They needed to forget for just one night and be a normal group of twenty-something-year-olds. Thankfully, it did not take much convincing for Sirius to agree and owl Lily and James to let them know 'Black Birthday Bonanza' was officially a go this year.

The day of party was spent in a whirlwind of cleaning and decorating the room with Sirius' traditional requested decor. Gold and burgundy streamers ran across the ceiling and walls, and balloons of the same colors littered the floor sparsely, as it seemed the men (who were in charge of decorating while Hermione got ready) gave up one third of the way through the bags purchased. Instead, they stood next to one another in the kitchen, each picking up the various bits of trash that had collected during the day of preparations in a feeble attempt to clean their home.

"So, Hermione mentioned you invited someone to join us this evening…" Sirius filled the comfortable silence. A knowing smirk played over his lips, which thankfully could not be seen by Remus who stood behind him.

Remus' jade green eyes rolled as he dropped a takeout box into the trashcan he held unceremoniously. "Of course she did," he grumbled. "Big mouth, that one's got." He couldn't truly blame her, because likely she had mentioned it to Sirius because it was his party, but he would never admit she didn't hold blame. At least not knowingly.

Sirius turned around to deposit a dirty napkin into the bin, before leaning back on the countertop behind him as a far-away glaze came over his eyes. His pink tongue darted out across his lips as a roguish smile fell into place. "Yes… Yes, she does."

Remus looked up to his friend; he could recognize his syrupy tone almost immediately and outwardly shuddered. "Ew, no… No, stop!" Snatching the pack of cigarettes Sirius set on the counter before cleaning, he hurled them at his friend in an attempt to pull him from his lewd daydream. "I know this is your birthday, but... Keep your mind from the gutter today, alright? Besides, we were talking about Shannon, not…whatever depraved things you two do in the bedroom."

Sirius chuckled, bending at the waist to pick up the fallen cigarettes before tucking them into the front pocket of his black jeans. "I hardly call a jobby depraved-"

"Ew, Please just-"

"-You used to be quite good at them if I remember. You both do this little thing with your tongue-"

"-I'm going to be sick all over the floor if you don't stop-"

"-Did you two trade tips? Maybe you can mention using her hands on my-"

"Sirius Orion! I am NOT trading sex tips with your…whatever the fuck she is."

"Alright, alright!" Sirius laughed, his hands going up in the air to show his surrender as he watched the flustered werewolf retreat from the kitchen towards the living room, his wand pulled from his pocket to begin filling the balloons they had abandoned earlier. "So… His name is Shannon. Do I know this bloke? It sounds vaguely familiar." Leaning against the countertop with his elbows, he propped his chin against his closed fists as he watched Remus.

Tapping his wand against a red balloon, a small knot was tied in the bottom before it began to inflate to the size of a quaffle. "Uh… Kind of. He's the brunette from Prongs and Lil's wedding." Remus purposefully did not lift his eyes from his work, fighting himself to keep a soft blush from his cheeks as he moved onto a gold ballon. It wasn't that he was embarrassed of what happened, far from it actually. He was allowed to date, especially since Sirius was obviously in an exclusive relationship with Hermione, but it was just… that night had been rough on both him and Sirius, in more than one way. Confessions were made, and tears were shed. They still had not really talked in-depth about what Sirius had walked in on in the bathroom at Three Broomsticks.

"Oh…OOH!" Sirius responded, campfire gray eyes widening as the realisation of just who this guy was set in and he nodded slowly, his lips pursing together in thought. "I do remember him… but didn't you just go out with a redhead last week?"

Remus glanced up at Sirius at his mention of last week's flame with a quizzical look. He had always thought Sirius never paid any attention to the late night visitors he brought to their flat. "You mean Ronan?"

Sirius shrugged. "I'm not sure of his name. Didn't catch it before he did his walk of shame out of the flat. Big, burly fellow... Thick beard." His hand motioned to his chin and his fingers drew down on in imaginary beard that ended about mid chest.

Jade green eyes rolled at Sirius before he tossed the newly inflated balloon at him. "Yes, I did see him last week," he said before beginning to fill another burgundy balloon.

"And…"

"And he wanted me to commit so things ended last week...so I floo'd Shannon to come tonight. Is that a problem, birthday boy?"

Sirius' brow rose and he stood up straight. Looping his thumbs through the front belt loops in his jeans, Sirius began to make his way around the countertop that separated him and his friend, a knowing smirk on his face. "You don't want to date exclusively? Color me surprised, Moony. I remember playfully suggesting something similar right around graduation and you shot me down."

Remus snorted, not bothering to turn his eyes to his friend, who he could see approaching from the side with some sort of smug grin across his features like he was aware of something that Remus knew nothing about. "I highly doubt you were joking back them. If I remember correctly you had just come from the pub with Prongs and had just been propositioned by that cute Puff two years ahead of you. Besides, if I was aware back then that sometime in the future I would…" Remus let his voice trail off as he pushed the newly-inflated balloon side, fingers fidgeting with the bag of gold balloons as his mind wandered over what Hermione had divulged for what felt like the millionth time. Somewhere out there, he did have a mate. Someone who he was bound to, someone who he would protect and who would feel the same impossible pull of love and devotion he already felt, even only knowing her scent. Someone who would never leave him; not like his father and mother, and certainly not like Peter.

"Have a mate?" Sirius finished for him.

"Yes...that." Remus pulled another gold balloon out of the bag before dropping it on the table hastily to begin inflating it, determined the put on a show of not being affected by it.

"A lady mate, at that!" Sirius stated plainly, despite knowing that was not making the news any easier to take for his friend.

"Please stop…"

"You know, one with breasts-"

"Padfoot," Remus warned, a serious lack of amusement woven into his tone.

"And she'll have a fanny. One you'll be-"

"SIRIUS!" Remus turned, the tip of his cypress wand pointed directly at Sirius with an almost menacing glint in his now yellow eyes.

"Okay, okay okay!" Sirius laughed as his hands lifted quickly and he took a step back from Remus to give the werewolf some much needed space. He knew better than to be on the wrong side of Remus' wand. He knew just how quickly he could cast a hex from prior experience and did not wish to relive any of it. Especially not minutes before his party.

The sound of the creaking door pulled both of the wizards' attention away from one another and toward the entrance from the hallway to their living room where Hermione now stood with a brow lifted and a sly smile over her rouged lips. "What did he do now?" She wore a pair of black jeans she had packed by mistake when preparing for the time travel; the cut was not from this era, but she remembered Sirius mentioning her arse looked good in them a couple weeks ago so she figured why not bring them out for the birthday celebration. Besides it wasn't like they were leaving the flat. A plain white v-neck of Sirius' was worn under his leather jacket, the point of the collar hitting the center of her chest, exposing the soft swells of her bosom. It wasn't outwardly provocative, or even remotely naughty, but it held just enough appeal that she knew, paired with the little bit of makeup she donned for the evening, it would drive Sirius mad. Besides, their history with this particular jacket was enough to leave the wizard hot and bothered without the skin tight jeans or low cut top.

"Your boyfriend is being a royal pain in the ass, is what." Remus dropped his wand and tucked it into his front pocket before snatching up the bags of uninflated balloons and moving to towards the kitchen to stuff them in the junk drawer.

"Well, he's your best friend. I certainly can't claim him if he's acting up," Hermione teased, leaning against wall with her shoulder as she winked at Sirius playfully.

Sirius, as expected, let his eyes wander her frame in an exaggerated fashion as his tongue pressed against the tip of his canine in a very animalistic appraisal of her. Under normal circumstances he knew she would have scolded him for such a show but… well, it was his birthday. He was allowed a bit of leeway, right? "You say that, Little bird, but for some reason I doubt you'll be denying me later in our bed."

"Is that so?" Hermione challenged.

"Most certainly." Sirius began a slow walk toward her, his eyes dropping from her face to run the column of her neck and down her exposed chest, paying particularly close attention to her breasts as he approached. Reaching out, he hooked his fingers into her belt loops, carefully tugging her the last remaining steps to him so their hips met. "My name will be the only thing on your lips."

"Seriously? I'm right here!" Remus yelled from the kitchen, turning to look at his friend and Hermione incredulously, watching as Hermione slid her hands up his chest to lock her hands behind Sirius' head before they began a slow, albeit passionate, kiss in the living room. Only seconds later, the sound of someone knocking at their front door filled the room, and when the liplocked pair made no move to end their kiss, Remus threw his hands up in the air with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh sure, I'll get that even though you both are closer. Don't worry about it."

Sirius lifted his hand from Hermione' waist to flip off the werewolf as he passed, smirking against Hermione's mouth when he felt Remus swat at his hand as he passed. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip as he broke the kiss. Pupils blown, and wild curls. Gods, she could turn him to stone in just one glance. "Gods, you're beautiful," he whispered, his hand moving to cup the side of her face as his eyes locked on hers.

Hermione's cheeks bloomed a soft pink at his words. She had been called many things in her lifetime, and sure Ronald had even told her she was beautiful more than once, but it did not have the same impact the way Sirius did. Ron had spoken the words, where as Sirius felt them. She could see it written across his face and in his kiss. "Shut up," she whispered, glancing down to where their hips met before back up to him. "Your guests are arriving. We can finish this later."

As Remus opened the front door, James and Lily came in from the cold, each with their arms full. The redheaded witch, bundled up in a thick lilac parka and black beret, moved towards the kitchen. "Hello Sirius! Happy Birthday!" she called cheerfully to the wizard who had, begrudgingly, let go of his girlfriend. Once in the kitchen, she set the glass pan on the counter with a soft thunk before pulling off her hat and setting it on the countertop.

"Is that what I think it is?" Sirius asked hopefully. His hand slid into his front pocket to discreetly adjust his half-hard cock before anyone noticed the slight bulge to his jeans. Moving into the kitchen, he saddle up next to Lily, pressing a soft kiss into her cheek before reaching out to lift the tinfoil lid off the corner of the dish.

"Her pasta bake, as requested," James chimed in as he moved to the small dining room table to set down the large pink box he had been carrying. "With extra cheese."

"Ja-ames. I was going to tell him!" Lily pouted, nimble fingers working the large buttons of her jacket.

"You're a saint, Lily Potter. They should erect monuments in your honor," Sirius praised, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as the smell of the casserole filled the small flat.

"Queen of the Kitchen," Remus teased as he peered over the countertop to catch an eyeful of the birthday dinner tradition as she removed the tinfoil lid completely.

"Oh please you guys. It's just a pasta bake," Lily waved off their praise, trying to look as humble as possible even though it was obvious the witch enjoyed the little bit of attention given her way.

"It does smell quiet good, Lily," Hermione chimed in as she walked over to James, leaning up on the tips of her socked toes to give him a quick hug in hello. "Reminds me of something I had growing up."

"And yet, you never learned to cook, Little Bird." Sirius gave a wistful sigh in jest as he leaned back on the counter.

"Oh, I'm sure she's not that bad," Lily defended her friend

Hermione snorted, shaking her head quickly. "No, he's right. I'm positively dreadful. Why do you think I asked you to bring dinner?"

"It's true, she can't even make tea right," Remus added, careful to avoid Hermione's narrowed gaze from across the room. He couldn't help it if it was the truth. The witch was positively dreadful in the kitchen.

"Well I know one thing that does not require someone to be good in the kitchen," James interrupted as he looped his Gryffindor scarf over one of the hooks on the coat rack. "Where is that whiskey from Malfoy's, Hermione? I bet you could pour a tumbler just fine." His eyebrows wagged to the curly-haired witch as a playful glint twinkled in his eyes.

"It's on the bartop over there-" Hermione gestured across the room where Remus and Sirius' rolltop usually sat, but tonight they had transfigured the desk into a dry bar which held crystal tumblers, shot glasses, the four bottle of whiskey nicked from Malfoy's and various other magical and muggle spirits. "And you're right. I can pour a good drink."

"You probably need it if you're going to stomach your cooking," Remus mumbled, flinching as the witch swatted his arm.

James moved across the living room quickly, leaving Hermione and Remus to squabble, and Sirius and Lily to flit about the kitchen, pulling out plates and forks for their meal. He moved in front of the makeshift bar, eyeing the ages of the pilfered Fire Whiskey before deciding on the 500 year blend. Plucking the bottle from the row, he began to line up five shot glasses on the bartop before he took a small sip directly from the bottle he'd just opened. He couldn't very well have his friends drink around without making sure the product was good first, right?!

It was then a second knock on the front door interrupted the conversations between friends. "I'll get it!" Remus and Sirius said at the same time, both having very different reasons for being eager to open the front door. Remus' head snapped across the room to look at Sirius, who was already making a beeline out of the kitchen for the front door.

"I got it-fuck!" Remus moved quickly, darting for Sirius as opposed to the door. Reaching out he grabbed a fistful of the back of his friend's shirt, and yanked him backwards as he tried to propel himself forward.

The tussle Remus and Sirius fell into, it seemed, was not new to either Lily or James, for neither Potter looked up from what they were doing to watch as Sirius and Remus fought against one another to get to the front door first. Elbows flying and yanking of clothes, Hermione was almost certain one was going to end up taken to St. Mungo's if they were not more careful.

It was only when Remus gave Sirius a leg sweep, knocking the wizard arse over tea kettle onto the middle of the entrance to their flat, that she let out a small groan, watching as Sirius' head smacked off the carpet.

Remus, cheeks flushed and a bit out of breath, did not bother with an apology as he darted to the door, his hand curling around the doorknob, and he pulled it open quickly. "Hi Shann," he breathed, reaching up to flatten his sandy blond hair that was a bit mussed from the fight.

"Hullo Remus," the handsome brunette returned, leaning across the threshold to press a kiss against the werewolf's scarred cheek before he was ushered inside. To say Shannon was anything but good-looking would have been a lie. Even Hermione & Lily could see the appeal. Tall, stocky and glittering blue eyes; it was obvious why there was a pull of attraction there. The hunky brunette was dressed nicely in a pair of fitted jeans and a gray jumper. Nothing that stood out, but definitely something he had taken care to choose as he thought this night, where he would officially be introduced to Remus' friends, held far more meaning that it likely did. "I didn't really know what to bring, but I got something for your friend," he said, tapping the side of the small wrapped box in his hands.

"Oh, you didn't have to-"

"Yes he did!" Sirius remarked from the floor he had yet to get up from.

"Here, I'll take that," Remus said, reaching out to accept the small gift before turning to look across the room where all eyes were plastered to the pair. "I supposed introductions are in order."

"Oh no, we've met!" Sirius lifted himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at the man who was Remus' current flavor of the week. "Hello again, Shannon. It's wonderful to see you without that carnal gleam in your eye."

"Ha- Ignore him," Remus gulped, shooting a wide-eyed glance at his friend before giving a quick and forced grin up to his guest. "We can circle back to him once he's realised he does have manners." Remus ushered Shannon into the flat, carefully stepping over Sirius's legs as he moved the wizard in. "That beautiful redhead in the kitchen is Lily."

"Hello!" Lily waved at the pair and offered a friendly smile.

"And the other woman who looks like her hair might come alive at any moment and eat her tiny little head is Hermione. And before you ask, yes, that is her real name."

"Hey!" Hermione pursed lips at Remus as she crossed the room to greet the wizard. "It's nice to meet you, Shannon," she said as she held out a hand to him.

"You as well, Hermione. And for the record, your hair is fine," the wizard reassured her with a shy grin.

"Yes, but her name. Sheesh." Remus cut off the conversation, his hand wrapping around Shannon's forearm as he moved further into the living room with the wizard and away from Hermione. "And this handsome man is James, Lily's husband." Remus did the final introduction with a gesture toward James, who was still standing in front of the bar, before plopping onto the loveseat.

"Hiya Shannon!" James greeted warmly over his shoulder before he turned his attention back to the row of shot glasses in front of him. James withdrew his mahogany wand from his pocket, and with a small flourish and a tap against the last shot glass in the line, the glass began to tremble, rattling softly on the bartop, before a soft pop could be heard as it duplicated and left an identical match next to it. "You drink Firewhiskey, mate? We've procured a lovely vintage in honor of Sirius' birthday."

Shannon glanced down to the opening on the loveseat next to Remus before back to James who appeared to be pouring shots regardless of his answer. "Uh… Not usually. I try not to make a habit out of it, I tend to get into trouble when I do," he answered honestly, glancing over to Remus as if he was unsure the answer would be received well by his friends.

"Well, Shann-hope you don't mind if I call you that by the way-but tonight you do! You're just in luck, mate, because tonight-" James set the bottle of Firewhiskey down before lifting his wand, and with a quick flick of his wrist, the group of six shot glass levitated off of the bartop under his direction, carefully hovering in the air as James turned around to face his friends with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "-we are looking for a little bit of trouble on this fine November evening."

As if drawn by the unspoken request, one by one the group made their way to James to pluck a filled shot glass from the air until only one was left. Lily, who was still busying herself in the kitchen, was trying to avoid being seen by busying herself. It wasn't until James, Remus, and Sirius all chanted her name like persistent five-year-olds that she finally threw the stack of napkins and marched over, taking the last floating shot glass from the air.

James, the leader of this motley crew of drunken debauchery for the evening, was the first to lift his shot glass as his free arm looped around Sirius' shoulders fondly. "To Sirius. You've made it one more year, which if I'm being honest is two years farther than I thought you'd get," the wizard teased, chuckling as Sirius nudged him with his hip at the joke. "Happy birthday, Padfoot."

One by one, the group of friends (and guest) lifted their shot glasses, repeating the praise of happy birthday until Hermione, who was on the other side of Sirius finished the toast. The group turned their eyes to Sirius, awaiting him to take his shot so the rest could follow suit, which was the first of many shots the group would be sharing before the night was through.

* * *

**November 4th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 02:00**

"Wait," Sirius interrupted Hermione as she gave instructions. Half-lidded eyes struggling to focus on the curly-haired witch who sat across from him. "We have to spin the…the bottle and then snog whoever it lands on?" he confirmed, blinking away the blurriness that was beginning to set in.

"Yesss! That is why it's call Spin the Bottle!" Hermione nodded, shoulder-length curls piled on the top of her head in a messy bun. The leather jacket had long been abandoned by her third drink in when she realised how fucking hot it suddenly was in their flat. She held up the empty Firewhiskey bottle to emphasize her point, wagging it at Sirius before glancing over to Lily who sat directly to her right. "Wizards…you'd think they'd get out more, right?"

The redhead snorted into her tumbler of Vodka and Club soda, before nodding in agreement. "No, they'd rather stay trapped in a musty old castle and play things like wizard's chess!"

"Or exploding snap," Hermione blurted out without thinking, giggling under her breath.

"Exploding what?" James interrupted the woman as he cracked open one eye. The wizard was on the floor sandwiched between Remus and Shannon, barley keeping awake as the night ticked on and the alcohol he had spent hours consuming finally caught up to him. The reason that the group had been dragged in this circle on the floor like a ground of fucking first years was truly his own fault though. When Hermione and Lily spoke of their first kisses and both had admitted to sharing them with neighbor boys growing up over a game of spin the bottle, James could not help but inquire.

Hermione's brow wrinkled for a moment before she waved off James. "Just nevermind. All that's important is that you have to kiss who you land on," Hermione reiterated before leaning to the middle of their circle and placing the bottle on its side directly in the middle. "Sirius, you're up first. Birthday honors."

Sirius had been keen on playing when both Lily and Hermione exploded in what could only be described as bubbling hysterics while trying to explain the roles of the muggle adolescent game. It was quite inventive, he had to admit, spinning a bottle to kiss girls (and guys), but he wasn't sure why they wouldn't just run off and snog one another. That always seemed to work in his favor growing up. "Alright. Best watch your bride, Prongs. I'm going to lay one on her."

James sat up, opening both eyes at Sirius' words, and he gave his friend a warning glare as he watched Sirius spin the bottle as instructed.

Round and round the bottle spun, the neck of the bottle making what felt like twenty full passes around the circle before it began to slow. Each person in the group ticked by at a slow pace, which only added to the anticipation. Shannon…Sirius...Remus…James. As the bottle came to land on the raven-haired wizard, the group immediately began to roll with laughter at the possibility of the two men, who were truly more like brothers than friends, having to share a snog in front of everyone.

"Well, this game is shit," Sirius announced, falling back on his arse as he shook his head. "I am not going to kiss Prongs."

"Ah, ah, ah Padfoot. Rules are rules, my friend. You have to kiss him." Remus wagged his finger at Sirius. His jade green eyes were in a semi-permanent state of gold wash since his third beverage, and it only seemed to add to the appeal Shannon felt for him because the brunette could hardly keep his hands to himself. Hermione had to damn near douse them with water to pull them apart to join this little game.

"He's married!" Sirius defended, his hand gesturing to James who had not realized yet he was the intended receiver of the kiss.

"Yeah… I am married," James agreed, glancing down to his ring before back up to the group. "Wait...He's supposed to kiss me?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. It's not like you haven't snogged him before, Sirius. Just give him a quick kiss so we can continue," Hermione said as she leaned back to snag her own tumbler of Firewhiskey off of the coffee table behind them.

Sirius froze, his eyes slowly widening as Hermione's word settled in across the group of friends. While it was not a secret amongst the Marauders that James and Sirius had once shared a kiss on a dare, it was almost certainly not something James had shared with his wife based off the reaction that came only seconds later.

"YOU TWO SNOGGED?!" Followed a sharp inhale as she glanced between her husband and Sirius in disbelief. The glass of muggle spirits she had been holding was slammed into the carpet, causing the beverage to slosh over the edges.

"Lils, it was ages ago," Sirius began, gulping down the rising fear. Lily was quite possibly the brightest witch of their class and he had yet to be on the receiving end of her wand, and truth be told, he had zero intention of finding out what would happen if he was. Even tonight.

"Ages, really!" James backed up his friend, reaching out towards his wife who shrugged away from his hand. "This was well before you...well. I mean I knew you, and loved you already. I just...I needed practice-"

"Oh Prongs, no…" Remus giggled through his fingers as his hand rose to smother his cheeky grin.

"-if I was ever going to give you a proper snog! I wanted our first kiss to be special!" James rambled, his hand going up to ruffle his hair.

Sirius, who had obviously agreed with that method of explanation, nodded his head vigorously in agreement. "Yeah, I was just helping him out! He was already mad about you. It wasn't even romantic or nothing. I didn't even get har-"

"Stop, both of you!" Lily cut off Sirius before he could finish, her hand lifting to silence him before she looked between the two wizards. The cogs inside her mind, although slowed due to the many drinks she had consumed, seemed to be calculating her next move and she glanced over to Hermione. "You're okay with this?"

Hermione shrugged, her own wide smile dampening to a smirk under the redhead's unscrupulous gaze. "I...I mean, It was a while ago and…Sirius did land on James. It's just a game."

Lily nodded, looking back to Sirius and James. "That's right… it is just a game… and since it was ages ago and didn't mean anything then you won't mind doing it again."

"Holy shit," Remus breathed, his hand slapping against Shannon's thigh to get his attention as he leaned forward a bit, as if this was the best thing he had seen in years. Like a muggle film.

"Uh...come again?" Sirius blinked, glancing around the circle of friends to confirm what she said was real.

"Lily...Honey, no… I can't kiss Sirius," James tried to reason.

"It's the rules, James," Lily reiterated, glancing over her shoulder to Hermione before back to the men.

"No fucking way. You can't be serious, Lily. Hermione, talk some sense into her! I'm can't just… Just snog Prongs!" Sirius waved his hand to the redhead who looked more determined than ever.

"Oh just kiss him, Sirius." Hermione laughed as she scooted off her knees to sit with her legs tucked up beside her, giving into the ache the pressure from the thin carpet was causing. "Just a little one so we can move on! She already gave you consent."

Sirius huffed, campfire smoke eyes drifting down to the dastardly bottle before back over to James and he sighed. "Let's just make this quick."

James still looked rather unsure about this and kept glancing between his wife and best friend before nodding in agreement. His hand rose to adjust his glasses up his nose a bit more before the wizards began to lean in toward one another. Neither reached for the other as they leaned in, as if laying a single hand on one another would make the moment more intimate. When they both began to tilt their head the same direction, Sirius cleared his throat before reaching up to hold James' face still before swooping in to press his lips against his friend's.

In total the kiss was less than two seconds, but it was clearly enough for either man because almost instantly they pulled apart and began to wipe their hands across their mouths as if they had poisoned one another. Sirius was well-versed in kissing men, and while James was not a particularly unattractive man, he was… he was his brother! He desire to return to a time where he offered to teach him how to kiss (which was many moons before Sirius had taken up residency at the Potters') was not something he was keen on.

Lily moved quickly, leaning into the center of the circle to grasp the bottle. "Great. My turn."

"Oh, actually Lily, it's James turn because-" Hermione tried to interrupt the play, but Lily seemed to ignore the rules of the childhood game and gave the bottle a quick spin. The bottle made three rotations around the circle before her hand slammed down on it once more, causing it to abruptly stop on Hermione.

It was in that moment that Hermione realised what the witch's plan was and she had no time to escape. Lily moved faster than Hermione's drunken brain could process and the next thing she knew, Lily's hand was curled around her neck and she was being pulled to the witch. Their lips met, and Hermione let out a small noise in protest as the world began to catch up to what was occuring. Lily Fucking Potter was kissing her. LILY POTTER WAS KISSING HER. Her best friend's mum was currently lip-locked with her to seek some sort of pseudo-revenge on her husband for snogging his friend when they were adolescents.

Hermione could hear the collective gasp around the circle, and she could not be certain, but she could almost make out stifled laughter from a pissed-drunk werewolf who was enjoying the show far more than he should be. Lifting her hands to Lily's shoulders, Hermione gently pushed on the witch until their kiss was broken.

Lily, seemingly satisfied by the little display that had just occurred, reached up to wipe the corners if her mouth as she gave Sirius and James a smug grin.

"Alright," Hermione broke the silence, her voice cracking as she pushed up from the ground and carefully toed the bottle behind her. "This game is officially over. I...I need a lot more to drink if Lily intends on making any more moves on me the rest of the night," she announced, her cheeks blazing red as she beelined it for the bartop to fill her suddenly very empty glass.

* * *

**November 4th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 09:00**

_Tap,tap, tap…_

"Sirius…go get that," Hermione grumbled into her pillow.

_Tap,tap, tap…_

"Sirius! Go get the post." Rolling over on the springy mattress, Hermione reached out to shove Sirius out of the bed to go retrieve whatever parcel was being delivered. When her hand snaked out of the tangle of comforter and sheets to land on a surprisingly soft shoulder, her brow furrowed. Cautiously one eye cracked open, daring to brave the winter morning light to look across the bed. Instead of her usual companion, curled up in his spot was a snoring (and quite possibly drooling) redheaded witch.

Groaning, Hermione rolled onto her back, her hands lifting to rub over her face as she tried to pull herself together enough to make it across the flat so she could stop the very persistent owl. Which was not going to be an easy feat considering her stomach felt as choppy as the black lake during a storm, and her mouth held the bitter taste of alcohol, stomach acid and cigarette ash.

Five hours of sleep was not nearly enough to cure the beginnings of what Hermione knew was going to be an epic hangover. She had picked up Pepper-Up potions and Aches and Pain Draughts from the apothecary down the road, but had conveniently forgotten to lay them out in the kitchen before the party began. Which meant she would have to brave the well-lit kitchen without the aid of potions to help her through the worst of the morning.

_Tap,tap, tap…_

"I'm fucking coming!" she grumbled, kicking at the comforter angrily until she was released from its snare. Pushing off the mattress, Hermione swung her legs off and stood up, her hands going up to tamp down her wild mane of curls as she began towards the door. Except instead, she ran head-on into a tall dresser. "What the..." her voice trailed off the soft curse as her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, and for the first time she realised that the comfortable bed she was curled up in with Lily was not her own.

The room was almost the exact opposite layout of Sirius'. Instead of golds, burgundy and black tones, it was filled with earth tones. The irony in that was not lost on her, but right now was not the time to delve into how each wizard inadvertently selected hues that matches their personality traits. Instead she was left wondering how the fuck she and Lily had managed to climb into this particular bed, and better yet, why Remus allowed it.

_Tap,tap, tap…_

The incessant tapping pulled her from her study of the bedroom, and she turned around, careful to step around the pile of books Remus kept on the floor next to the foot of his bed as she made her way to the door. She was still wearing the same clothing from the night before, and from what she saw of the unconscious Lily, she was the same. Which was comforting, seeing as the memory of her lip-lock with the redhead was definitely not lost in the fog that was Sirius's birthday celebration.

She could make out small fragments of the night. Singing 'Happy Birthday' & eating a slice of chocolate cake. Playing spin the bottle, the kiss, and Remus, Sirius & James singing along to some Beatles song in the living room after Shannon took his leave because he had work the next day. She could remember at one point Lily and James both excused themselves to the restroom in succession and the sound of what could only be described as skin slapping against skin began to echo into the living room. For the sake of providing the newlyweds privacy, and because Hermione did NOT want to hear her best friend's parents having sex in her bathroom, she made her way onto the front porch to join Sirius while he finished his smoke. Although, why her mouth tasted of ash she was not entirely sure of, because the details of the rest of the night were lost in the drunken haze that took over.

_Tap,tap, tap…_

As Hermione closed Remus' bedroom door behind her, she looked across the hall to where her and Sirius' bedroom lay. Their bedroom door was wide open, providing a clear view of the three men who were inside. Keeping her footsteps light, she moved to the opening, stifling her laughter as best she could. Sirius lay in the dead center of the bed in just his black jeans and one sock, alabaster skin glowing in the soft morning light, causing the black ink of his various tattoos to seem even darker than before. His head was resting on top of Remus' who was to his right, snuggled up under his arm like a child. The werewolf had managed to strip down to his green boxers and his gray jumper. To Sirius' left lay James, who was the only one out of the three still completely dressed, his glasses discarded on the end of the mattress, wild black hair seeming to stand on end. His arm was draped across Sirius' waist, his hand resting on top of Remus' sandy blond hair and his fingers carded into it.

It was clear that this was not the first time the friends had shared a bed, but judging by the decidedly empty space on the mattress behind James, Hermione knew that there was one body missing from the tangled mess of limbs and wild morning hair. Leaning against the door jam, she bit her bottom lip, eyes dancing across the faces of each wizard as a small smile tugged on the corner of her lips. They looked… happy, carefree almost as they lay there together, and it was moments like these that she knew the risk was worth it. Once Harry was born, would the three men snuggle together with a little mini-James sandwiched protectively between them? Would they surround the new parents with support and love as they figured out the woes and wonders of parenthood? She could not help but ponder these questions as she looked at them, because even in her morning fog, Hermione knew that these three were meant to be together. It wasn't right for James to be taken from them so early, and it certainly was not right for Sirius to shoulder the blame for his and Lily's death for so many years.

_Tap,tap, tap…_

Reaching out, she pulled the bedroom door shut to provide some semblance of privacy for the sleeping men, as well as dull the sound of the owl. Moving down the hall, she felt the padding of her feet light, careful to avoid the loud creaks in the hallway floor as she moved to the kitchen where right outside the window over the sink sat a large Tawny owl. A soft dusting of snow clung to its feathers, and as she came into its line of sight, it ruffled its feather as her, as if to let her know it had been waiting quite some time to be let in from the cold.

Reaching across the sink, Hermione slid the window panel up, allowing the cold morning chill and the owl to come in at the same time. "You do know it's very early and some of us might need sleep," she told the bird as she reached out to take the small parcel from its talon. Just as her fingertips came into contact with the package, the bird reached out and nipped in warning against her forearm. "Ouch! Okay okay, sorry." Taking the package, she shot a hard glare to the less than professional bird before glancing around the counter for something she could give it as a gesture of goodwill (despite the lovely scratch it left on her arm). Finding no breads, or treats, she picked up a plate of half eaten cake and set it next to the bird, who only looked at it and blinked its gigantic eyes, before ruffling the snow from its feathers to litter across the countertop before taking its leave through the same window.

"Rude," Hermione remarked as she shut the window before grabbing the plate of cake and parcel from the counter. The box was plain and unmarked, and wrapped crudely with twine. Hermione carefully examined the front and back of the parcel for any indication of the sender before she set it on the countertop. Part of her felt inclined to fetch her wand to cast a diagnostic charm, but it seemed so unoffending. Surely if some Death Eater was brazen enough to mail some sort of cursed object to the flat, they would have just come in wands at the ready for a fire fight. They were not exactly known for calculated moves during the first war, no they generally prefered that their mark was left and the public knew who caused the devastation.

Snatching the fork from the plate of cake, she scooped up a small bite and carefully chewed the sweet (ableit now dry) confection as she weighed her choices and tapped the fork against her lip before deciding that the risk did not outweigh her curiosity. Sirius could be upset with her later if anything bad were to happen. Picking up the package, she turned her back to the counter so she could lean against it as she untied the small twine bow before unwinding it from around the box.

The butcher brown parchment began to lift away from the box, revealing beneath an equally plain unmarked box. She let the paper and twine float towards the kitchen floor, her brow furrowing as she turned the package over in her hand a couple times, causing whatever was inside to rattle around. It did not sound like anything she had heard before, almost hollow. Short nails scratched at the corner of the taped lid until it lifted and she quickly pulled the lid open to reveal the corner of a newspaper with bright red inky writing scrawled across it.

_I've found what yer lookin for. Be careful._

Her fingers trembled, causing the hastily written note to flutter as she pulled it from the box to reveal a beautiful made box beneath it. The lid was lined with filigree, etchings deep in the metal, and inside the frame of twisted vines were Goblin runes. Some of them Hermione was not yet familiar with, but there was one that stood out, because it was one she learned during her second year. Basilisk.

The box was weightless, as was a trait of the finest Goblin metals, which is why it felt so uncharacteristically light when hidden. And the metal was ice cold to the touch, nearly burning her fingertips as she brushed the lid to let the runes slide beneath her caress. The lid was opened, not a single creak or pop from the antique box was given, and there, in the center of a crushed velvet pillow sat a fang. It was about six inches in length, far shorter than the one she had used with Ronald to destroy the Horcruxes before the Battle of Hogwarts, but nonetheless scary. The top of the fang still held chunks of flesh, clinging to the root, and the tip was black as night, as if still pregnant with venom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to start this off by saying I quiet possibly have the best readers ever. Your reviews warm my heart and make me eager to give you more chapters. I know I'm a day early, but I am trying to work on my tropefest piece in conjunction with staying true to my promise of giving you updates once a week.
> 
> I am excited to announce that Right The First Time has been nominated for Two Marauder's Medals for 2018!! This is something I was honestly not expecting and I am beyond blown away by those of you who voted for this little story and just thank you all. If you feel so inclined and want to vote for Right the First Time for Best Romance & Best Pairing, please visit this link: htt*ps:*//*docs*.*m/*forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdGm5P_*Ehq5Sjxdut6wJd71jZbh1EMQLREyDFhXlqhVfJ3VuA*/viewform (make sure to remove the '*')
> 
> Additionally, the voting for Beyond the Book Fanfiction Book's Summer Awards 2018 is still open and Right the First Time is nominated for Favorite Time-Turner, so make sure to get your vote in there! Link: ht*tps:*//*docs*.*google*.*com*/*forms/d/e/1F*AIpQLSf9h*-*zaH8s*TTErFV0GU*_R1bCLNU*DW*-*HszRz*cuH*J7Ik*k3lCZbA/view*form (remove all '*')
> 
> I cannot wait to hear what your thoughts are on this fluff piece. :) And yes, before you ask in the comments. This is EXACTLY what you think it means for Lily & James. ;P


	39. Little Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any Harry Potter ideas and make no money from this....sadly.

**November 6th, 1979 - Tutshill - 06:00**

The morning air was still so crisp it burned Hermione's lungs as she moved up the side of the dirt road behind Sirius and Remus. Her book bag felt heavier than usual as it slapped against her thigh with each step, although she knew it was in her head. The bag was no different than normal. If anything it should feel lighter considering she had removed all her texts from the bag to make room for the diary and the goblin-made box.

Brown eyes dropped to the ground, watching the fading frost break under her boots. Sirius and Remus were chatting animatedly in front of her, neither aware of the potential danger they faced only moments from now. Harry had only mentioned the destruction of the diary a small handful of times, and each story was more bone-chilling than the last. She knew from his and Ginny's apprehensiveness toward discussing just how Voldemort's soul presented itself in the unassuming diary that it was quite possibly more powerful than the other horcruxes. She knew both Ginny and Harry spoke about seeing him, Voldemort-or Tom Riddle, if you pleased. A sentient memory of the teenager who had already slipped into darkness. The diary was Voldemort's first horcrux, and quite possibly the most powerful manifestation of his soul. If it was true, that this diary was created first, then it could have contained the majority of the broken wizard's soul. Far more soul than the snake-like wizard had at the end of his life when Hermione had faced him last.

"Where are we going to do this, Little bird?" Sirius glanced over his shoulder as they approached the now-familiar cottage. Reaching out he unlatched the gate and swung it open as he moved into the overgrown yard, his trainers breaking the thick growth that sprung up between the stone walkway.

"It would probably be best if we give it a go out back. Perhaps behind the cottage in case someone pops on down the road," Hermione suggested, carefully latching the gate behind her as she stepped over the threshold.

"Is it gonna be messy or something?" Remus piped up, shoving his mitten-covered hands into the pockets of his worn parka. The forest green knit cap on his head helped protect him from the creeping cold, as well as accent his eyes. As he lifted a thick brow at Hermione, his head cocked to the side, causing the peak of sandy blond hair to fall across his forehead.

"Possibly," Hermione shrugged, glancing down to the bookbag at her side before back up to the wizards. "I didn't kill this one last time. Harry did."

"Prongs' kid?" Remus sought clarification as his brow furrowed, still not used to hearing her talk about the potential boy wonder from the future. "And what do you mean, you didn't destroy it? Where the hell were you? I thought you have experience with this sort of thing."

"I meant exactly what I said: I did not destroy this one. However considering there were five out of seven left by the time we figured this out, I certainly assisted with the destruction of others," Hermione defended, doing her best to ignore the snippy tone of the overly-tired werewolf. "At the time I was a bit busy being Petrified in the hospital wing."

"...oh." Remus let the word linger off his tongue as he eyed the perturbed witch. Well, it wasn't like he knew what had happened! She was supposed to be leading this little expedition to destroy a supposed piece of Voldemort's soul, something that, if he was being quite honest, he had doubts about. It wasn't that he did not believe her, but it was that it sounded far-fetched, even for the magical world. Death was not something you could avoid; no spell or potion would ever be able to bring back the dead, so why would separating one's soul be any different? Next she would be telling him the resurrection stone was real or there really was a fairy who collected teeth from little children. He only agreed to come along because, well, he wanted to see how truthful she was. He had inspected the diary, if one could even call it that considering all the pages were blank, and it seemed like a normal book to him. "Right. Suppose being...frozen makes it a bit difficult to do much of anything..."

"Shit, Moony. You thought turning into a werewolf once a month was bad," Sirius teased, trying to cut the tension between the two with a poorly timed joke. When Remus rolled his eyes with a huff and spun around to march towards the back of the house, his puffs of air materializing as wisps of smoke, Sirius could not help but laugh. "Sorry, Little bird. Remus can be a bit of a prick when he doesn't get enough sleep," the raven-haired wizard offered before holding out his hand towards Hermione. His fingertips were red from the cold, but he refused the multiple offers of additional layers beyond a gray zip-up hoodie underneath his leather jacket. "Let's go get this done, yeah? If we spend much more time outside I'm afraid my bollocks might actually lift into my body."

Hermione snorted, shaking her head at the imagery before reaching out to lace her gloved fingers with his. "You know, some weather-appropriate clothing might of been a novel idea," she teased as they followed the trampled path of the disgruntled werewolf to the back of the cottage.

"But if I did that, I wouldn't look as devilishly handsome," Sirius replied plainly, as if the explanation that he was willing to sacrifice comfort for the sake of beauty was not anything but a completely ordinary fact that most of the world had accepted as well.

"Oh, right. Because you need to remain presentable for the hoards of people we might come across in the outskirts of Tutshill. Makes total sense," Hermione retorted with a roll of her eyes.

The back of the cottage was as equally neglected as the front. Knee-high grass and weeds wove their tendrils through decaying lawn furniture that should have been pulled in several winters ago. Remus stood under the back porch's awning, his wand withdrawn, and a small flame flickered from the end that he was trying to warm up his other hand with. "Alright, let's hurry the fuck up. Even with fur it would be too cold out for this shit."

Reaching into her book bag, Hermione withdrew the first of the two items that lay inside. The diary felt soft beneath her fingertips; the worn black leather was obviously handled frequently over the years. Sliding her wand from her holster on her thigh, she summoned a large crumbling bird bath from the corner of the yard and set it a few feet in front of her to act as the altar. She laid the book in the center, a small puddle frozen water beneath it and she glanced over to Remus and Sirius before back to the book. This was it then. She was just supposed to destroy this thing while they watched.

Sliding her wand back into her holster on her thigh, she withdrew the Goblin-made box, carefully opened the lid and trembling fingers curled around the freshly taken basilisk fang, careful to avoid the now brownish flesh that clung to the root of the tooth. She bent down, setting the empty box on the ground by her feet as she curled her fingers around the fang, testing her grip on the object. Unlike the last basilisk fang she held, this one seemed sturdier. Perhaps it was that it had not been sitting on a corpse for five years, or possibly it was just the moment.

Hermione looked at the diary in the center of the birdbath, her hand holding the fang still at her waist as she licked her bottom lip nervously. Harry had never spoke of how it had responded once stabbed. She knew they protested; hell Helga's cup shouted violently at her once pierced before dousing her and Ron in a great deluge of water before finally perishing. What would this do? Would it cast doubt in their minds like the locket before finally disappearing? Or maybe it would go quietly. Although for some reason she doubted that to be the truth.

"You alright, Little bird?" Sirius questioned across the lawn, sensing her hesitation. This was unlike her, to be so nervous and almost uncertain. He knew that destroying this was the first step towards righting her past-his future, and once done there was no going back. She'd mentioned Voldemort might be able to actually feel its destruction, and perhaps that scared her more than she let on.

Hermione looked over her shoulder once more, nodding with a small forced smile before she turned, squaring her shoulders as she took one final breath before lifting the fang above her head. Both of her hands curled around the sharp fang, squeezing as tightly as she could before she thrust down. The fang ripped through the leather cover and pages like knife to softened butter, easily ripping a hole clean through. The only resistant she felt was when the tip of the fang smacked against the cement basin of the birdbath.

For a moment, she thought there might have been no reaction, which cast doubt as to if they had found the right diary in Malfoy Manor, but just as quickly as that doubt entered her mind it vanished. A loud, dreadful piercing scream emitted from the pages; it made the Caterwauling Charm seem like a mournful tune in comparison. Hermione's hands instantly retracted to cover her ears as she stumbled away from the now violently shaking diary. Thick torrents of black ink began to spit from the diary in a heartbeat-like pulse, quickly overfilling the birdbath the book lay in and beginning to soak into the frost covered lawn.

Sirius and Remus both ran forwards, their wands clutched in their fists that were lifted against their heads to block out the blood-curdling screaming as the diary seemed to ripple with agony. Just as they reached Hermione, who was still backing away from the Horcrux, a bright purple light of energy burst from the book, knocking the fang from the hole in the diary as it flipped open. The blast of magic knocked the three of them off their feet and rattled the foundation of the cottage behind them as a ghost-like image of a young man rose from the book.

Hermione gasped as she watched the figure rise. She had never seen the young Tom Riddle before except for in old grainy photos of the past. He was tall and lean; even through the ghostly robes of Hogwarts past he wore, she could see that even back then he was a formidable. His squared jaw, deep set eyes; he looked aristocratic, and charming. He was a man-boy-who would use his looks and promises to win over those closest to him with promises of a better life. Promises that bood purity would bring about a second coming for the wizards and witches of the world.

The translucent figure of teenage Tom Riddle withered in pain in time with the pulsating flow of inky blood that dribbled across the lawn. His screams were in time with the shriek still emitting from the diary, his hands clutching his chest that seemed to pour ghost-like ink down his robes and drip onto the bleeding diary below. His trembling hands rose from his wound, the iridescent skin shimmering as he lifted his hands up to watch the early daylight glitter on his black, ink-covered hands like an endless sea of diamonds. Slowly, his head turned towards where Hermione stood with Remus and Sirius coming up behind her, wands at the ready in case this ghost-like memory attacked. His black eyes appeared hollow even in this reimagining of the Dark Lord, an abyss of self-loathing and torment he had felt when this Horcrux was created. The black pools of his eyes began to glow, softly at first, but then a murderous red hue began to overtake the inky black. "YOU DARE DEFY THE DARK LORD?!" the memory shouted over the shrieking of the diary below.

The voice sent a chill up her spine, causing the baby fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand at attention as her stomach sank like a stone in the black lake. That voice, she knew that fucking voice. It penetrated her mine during the Battle of Hogwarts, it stayed in her dreams. She never thought she would have to hear it again, but here she was. It had been a little over one year past the day of his second death (although, technically, she was twenty years away from that event occuring) and facing him still made her mouth instantly dry.

" _YOU WILL BE NEXT! YOU WILL SUFFER AT THE HANDS OF-"_ The visceral scream was swallowed up as the glow in his eyes increased in intensity until the bright red light consumed the ghostly image. The bone-chilling shriek and the astral projection vanished with an audible pop as the bright red light seemed to snuff out lingering life and a second later, a tidal wave of magic erupted from the book. It felt and sounded like a gunshot, the force from the blast knocking the three back on the lawn and rattled the windows of the small cottage behind them.

"...Holy fuck," Hermione breathed as she slowly sat up, her back aching from the sudden impact of the blast. Her hand rose to rub the back of her skull where it had bounced off the hard earth and her wide brown eyes went to the dripping bird bath, noting it had been severed cleanly in two from the magical expenditure of the diary that lay atop the rubble pile.

Sirius sat up, slowly bending his knees so his trainers slid across the frost-covered grass until he could rest his forearms on the tops of his knees. "Was...uh… was that normal?" His voice cracked with uncertainty as his gray eyes focused on the back of his girlfriend. He was no stranger to dark magic, having grown up with various 'antiques' as his mother called them, but this was...this was something he had never fucking seen before!

Hermione looked behind her to the ashen-faced men and nodded. "They all contain some sort of magical signature that is destroyed. All are different but… uh. Yeah I think that was normal." Pushing herself off the grass as the creepy black ink began to make its way toward her boots, she brushed her legs and thighs to free the clinging earth from her jeans. She could hear the rustle of movement behind her, indicating that the men were beginning to follow suit and get up.

"We have to do this HOW many times?" Remus questioned. Part of him was still trying to process that she wasn't… well, full of shit. The diary that she had kept locked in their bureau had been a piece of a living fucking soul. He had spent the past month with it in his goddamn flat, acting like it was nothing more than a fucking diary. He had even flipped through the pages one night after Hermione went to bed to see what the big deal about it was. He couldn't help but shudder at the thought that he had manipulated something so evil with careless skepticism as he accepted Sirius' extended hand to help him off the ground.

"I think she said there were five. So…four more times." Sirius glanced over to Hermione before back to Remus who seemed to visibly pale at the notion having to deal with similar dark magic several more times and he laughed. "Oh, it wasn't that bad," he tried to ease the tension from his best friend. Reaching out Sirius laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. Okay, well that part might be a lie, but he had to say something right? Remus looked like he was on the verge of vomiting. "Besides, we still got to find the rest first."

"Find them...right." Remus nodded, tugging his parka tighter around his shoulders. "Let's just go back to Puddlemere and get far away from whatever…that is." His mitten hand gestured to the creeping back ink that was still spreading across the lawn, like a slow moving molasses.

"Yeah…about that… I uh...might know where some of them are," Hermione interrupted the men, moving up next to where they stood on the back porch. She had been going through her notes on the theft of the locket from the crystal cove. She knew Regulus must be struggling; she could see the anguish in his face that night at Malfoy Manor. She knew if they did not act soon then it might be too late for the youngest male of the House of Black.

"Really? Already?" Sirius' brows lifted in surprised as he looked at his hesitant girlfriend and he reached out, carefully looping his arm around her waist to give her a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright...We can get them and I'll do the next...you don't have to do them all. We're a team…right, Moony?"

"What? I'm not fucking-" Remus let out a heavy breath as Sirius cut off his protest with a swift gut smack. Frowning he backed up, his hands going to his middle to rub the stinging skin. "Uh...yeah. A team," he reluctantly agreed.

Hermione looked up to Sirius, brown eyes dancing across his face and she cursed herself. This was going to be so much fucking harder than she anticipated. Why did he have to be so fucking…fucking noble at times likes this!? She offered her boyfriend a small smile before slowly slipping from his grasp to put room between herself and him. "Well, before we go the next one...the uh...the locket. We need to go do something first."

"What else could we possibly 'need to do'? You've got the fang, it's right over there-" Remus gestured behind them to the diary and fang still sitting on top of the crumbled birdbath, eyeing the objects like they might spring to life at any moment and attack. "-and if you know where the next one is we probably need to get it before Lord Angry-Face has figured out what the fuck we're up to."

"We…uh… We need to gotoGrimmauldPlace." She said the words quicker than intended, her apprehension at disclosing this particular part of the past causing her anxiety to bubble to a dull roar. Perhaps it was the adrenaline left from killing the Horcrux, or just the self-doubt she felt about not telling Sirius sooner, but either way, she knew this was not going to go over about as well as a boggart in a potion's closet.

"Excuse me?" Sirius sympathetic expression began to drop. She didn't just suggest what he thought...did she? No. He had to be hearing things.

"We need to go to Grimmauld Place," Hermione said slowly, letting her eyes move from her boyfriend to the grass beneath her feet, the toe of her boot knocking the frost from the blades before she glanced back up. "And talk to your brother…"

"Absolutely not! No fucking way am I setting foot in that fucking shit hole!" Sirius snapped

"Reg? You want to talk to fucking Reg?" Remus said at the same time as Sirius in disbelief. "What the hell do you need to talk to that little shit for?"

"Hey!" Sirius shot a hard look at Remus, gray eyes narrowing just slightly in warning. Remus knew his relationship with Reg was tumultuous, at best. Orion and Walburga made no qualms about putting the two brothers against one another during their teenage years, which only went to cause more of a rift between the two boys. Yet, despite their rocky relationship, Sirius made it clear, even to the Marauders, that no one was allowed to take cheap shots at his brother (except him, of course). The rest of this family, though, was fair game.

Remus lifted his hands instantly toward Sirius to show the wizard he could follow the unspoken rule of Regulus being off limits. "Sorry-what I meant is, why the fuck do we need to go visit hell on earth and speak to Satan's spawn?"

"Well, if we don't-" Hermione paused to lick her lips and take a deep breath. "He's going to try and destroy one of these on his own." Hermione watched as Sirius and Remus' faces both dawned with the realisation of what she had said and she mentally prepared herself for the explosion that was seconds away from coming.

"He's WHAT?!" Sirius questioned, his eyes widening to what felt like the size of Quaffles as he looked at Hermione aghast. There was no fucking way that she was telling him this now. I mean...She had told him about everything else, surely the details about how his own fucking brother, his blood, died was a vastly important detail that could not be forgotten. Moreover, she was supposed to be fucking completely honest with him. After the night at Malfoy Manor they had rowed for what felt like the better part of the night once they got home and even though no resolution came, he thought it had been clear: No more fucking secrets.

"He's going to try and destroy one of the horcruxes…unsuccessfully," Hermione explained, her void devoid in any emotion, similar to the way Healers sounded when delivering bad news. So fucking clinical that it even made her mad at herself, but she could not help it. She needed to put up the wall because she knew Sirius was already mid-tumble over the edge.

"Unsuccessfully?" Sirius repeated, his head shaking as he backed away from Hermione and Remus, his stomach clenching in a mixture of rage, betrayal and an endless sea of disbelief. She was lying. She had to be. This was fucking happening. "UNSUCCESSFULLY?! What in the bloody fuck do you mean unsuccessfully, Hermione?!"

Remus watched as Sirius began to pace like a feral animal, his hackles already risen. Part of him felt bad for Hermione, but on the same hand he couldn't blame him. This wasn't something small she was withholding, this was his little brother perishing. The one good thing from Sirius' shitty childhood. "I'm not a fucking expert, Pads, but I'm pretty sure there are only two outcomes that could be considered unsuccessful."

"Remus just...just shut the fuck up!" Sirius snapped at his friend, his hand going up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his trainers wearing a path in the grass as he moved, trying to calm himself down enough so he could form a coherent thought instead of screaming an endless stream of curses. "H-How long have you known?"

Hermione's eyes showed the regret and sympathy she felt for her boyfriend despite her blank face. Her fingers nervously twisted a loose string from the hem of her shirt and she looked at the toes of her boots before up to him again. "Sirius...I-"

"How long have you fucking known!?" he snapped, his crisp tone cutting through her words like a knife. He didn't want to hear whatever reasoning she had to not disclose this. He just wanted the fucking truth. Had she known this whole fucking time? Sirius stopped pacing, staying arm-distance from her as his smoldering eyes held her gaze.

Hermione's teeth bit her bottom lip, worrying the corner and she gulped down what was left her her purposeful apathy. "...a couple years...He's died in...every timeline," she managed softly, wincing as she heard a guttural growl following the sound of Sirius' fist hitting the side of the cottage in an outburst of rage. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't tell you it's just-"

"Just what?! This...This isn't like fucking Quidditch scores, Hermione! THIS IS MY FUCKING BROTHER!" Sirius shouted, swearing as he shook out his right hand that throbbed in protest. "Y-You're supposed to...to fucking tell me these things!"

"So you can do what exactly?!" Hermione shouted back, her own exterior finally cracking to give way to anger. What was he expecting? Had she told him he would have run off, he would have acted more impulsive than usual and likely made the situation worse! Look at the run-in at the Manor! Each Black male was left in shambles following the unplanned run-in. She couldn't risk sending him into a frenzy over… over something she had a bead on. Over something she was not going to let happen. "Go run and get yourself killed?!" Because the real reason that she did not want to disclose the important secrets she still had left was because she didn't want to lose him. Because she could control him far less than she could Harry or Ronald when they were younger (which was truely not at all considering the amount of mischief the boys happened to get into), and she wasn't sure she was willing to risk a life without him. Not after knowing him.

"I...I can't lose you, Sirius. I-I was monitoring it...I wasn't going to let him-"

"That wasn't your fucking call to make, Hermione!" Sirius shouted back, looking away as he ran his fingers through his shaggy black hair, holding fistfulls of the soft locks on the back of his head. "Reg's my brother. I...I should have known! I would have-"

"You would have risked your fucking neck and likely been hexed to Saudi Arabia trying," Remus interrupted the pair, knowing that if he did not snuff this flame soon it would have ended poorly for both people involved. Sirius was a hot head, and Hermione didn't seem to grasp the fact that this suicide mission she was so hell bent on was no longer a solo project. Remus and Sirius both signed their names on the dotted line next to hers and were prepared for what came of it, but they both needed the truth. The whole fucking truth so they could make sure they were walking in prepared. "Look, as much as this conversation between the two of you needs to fucking happen, it needs to wait until AFTER we figure out how the fuck we're getting into Grimmauld Place without Satan's life coach finding out."

Sirius set his jaw, gray eyes hardening on the earthen floor as Remus' words pulled him back from the brink of saying something he would have truly regretted later. The conversation did need to happen, but only after he made sure Reg was safe. The fucking idiot got himself mixed up in the affairs of their parents' friends and despite their years apart, Sirius clearly needed to step up and (literally) knock some sense into him. Nodding his head in silent agreement to Remus, he looked back over at Hermione, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he purposely held her gaze. "We **will** be talking about this later, Hermione...and all the other shit you have conveniently not brought up. This is far from over."

Hermione nodded, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear before letting out a shaky breath. She had been so busy trying to protect him, trying to shoulder the weight of the future on her own that she had allowed herself to hurt the person she loved. She didn't want him to leave but he was about to do that that because she couldn't fucking trust them to help her. Hermione knew that she had to tell him everything. Regulus, the Prophecy in its entirety and ...even Peter. Because if she did not tell him, she could very well lose him.

Sirius pushed down his emotions, successfully dampening the anger as best he could as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket in search of the pack of cigarettes he tucked away when they left the house. A smoke could usually calm his nerves and between the fucking diary and now this, he was in desperate need of a smoke. "What fucking day is it?" he questioned as he flipped open the white and red pack of smokes, withdrawing one and setting it between his lips.

"The sixth," Remus supplied, eyeing the cigarettes distastefully before glanced over to the somewhat shrunken Hermione, who was obviously taking Sirius' outburst to heart. As much as he wanted to gloat in her misery, Remus felt the soft tug of sympathy on his heart strings and he sighed, truly disappointed with his own humanity as he reached out to loop his arm around the witch's shoulders to give her a soft reassuring squeeze that it would be alright. They would be fine, despite the outburst, and despite Sirius' temperamental attitude about his family, because even Remus knew he was fucking crazy about her.

Sirius wrinkled his nose as he puffed the cigarette to life, letting the white smoke slide from his lips as he took several shallow breaths to get the embers burning. "No, like, what bloody day of the week is it?" he questioned before taking a long slow drag, letting the nicotine burn his lungs, and the drug began to run calmingly through his blood stream as he looked over to his friend and girlfriend, his lips pressing together in slight disapproval as he watched Remus comfort her. Under normal circumstances he would have found it almost endearing considering Remus' normal disdain for the witch, but now he was not in the mood to be anything but unhappy.

Hermione lifted her watch after shaking the jewelry into place on the top of her wrist. "Tuesday," Hermione answered softly, lifting her head off Remus's shoulder to look back to her boyfriend, teeth still nibbling on her now red bottom lip. "Why?"

"Because," Sirius began, blowing the thick white nicotine smoke away from the pair before pulling the cigarette from his lips, his thumb flicking the filtered end to shake off any ash before bringing it back to rest between his parted lips. His words bobbing the precariously placed cigarette, the glowing red embers dancing in time as he began to gather his hair loosely on the back of his head, stray strands wisping around his face as he tied a thick black elastic band around it. "Unless Walburga had suddenly decided to change her routine after sixteen fucking years, she will be out of the house this afternoon for tea with the other high society cunts."

**November 6th, 1979 - Grimmauld Place - 13:00**

The hours between leaving the cottage and the afternoon felt like eons. Hermione could barely get Sirius to look at her, let alone talk to her. His stern promise of talking later was obviously meant when he was ready to have the conversation, and hopefully was willing to forgive her. She was not exactly sure what she could say or do to make it right between then beyond giving away all the small details of her past she was trying to fix, and as easy as it sounded, she was not sure if it was the right call still. Her heart wanted to tell him, but her mind waged war against it.

Remus, surprisingly, had become her ally in the few hours. He had sat silently on the couch next to Hermione as Sirius sulked around the flat, purposefully avoiding any room she might be in. He brought her a cup of tea when she felt tears dribble from the corners of her eyes and did not make mention of them when they were hastily brushed away with the sleeve of her hoodie.

When the clock struck noon, Hermione pushed away the sandwich she had barely picked at since served and gathered her wand and slipped on her boots. She chose to leave her book bag at home for this excursion, because what good would it do beyond getting in the way should they need to make a hasty exit from The Black Ancestral home?

Sirius, still silently brooding, emerged from his bedroom and lead the way out of the flat towards the apparition point up the street minutes later. Hermione stayed two steps behind him, Remus at her side. Upon reaching the apparition point, the raven hair wizard turned to the pair who moved quietly behind him. "Let me guess, you already know the way?" he questioned, gray eyes finally turning to Hermione, who nearly melted into a puddle of sorrow by the disapproving look he was giving her.

"Yeah...I've been there," she supplied. Surely he wouldn't be mad at her forever right? Eventually he would be able to see her side of this and understand the reason she had kept this secret.

"Of course," Sirius muttered, his hand going up to flick away the loose hairs from his ponytail away from his face before holding out his hand toward Remus. "Ready, Moony?"

Remus glanced between the two before he shook his head, side-stepping closer to the petite witch he stood next to before linking his arm into hers. "I'll side-along with her...she's a bit more level headed at the moment despite being sullen. I don't feel like risking a limb going along with you," he explained, watching as Sirius rolled his eyes before dropping his hand and vanishing with a loud CRACK.

Hermione glanced over to Remus in genuine surprise. "You've never been to Grimmauld Place before?" she questioned curiously.

"Gods no. What reason did I have to go there?" Remus explained, straightening his spine a bit before shooting a look to Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. "Why?"

"You just… I don't know...Maybe it seemed like you were at least vaguely familiar with the home when I was younger," she explained with a slight shrug of her shoulders, the memories of the middle-aged Remus fluttering around Grimmauld Place during her fifth and sixth year on the forefront of her mind. He knew the layout well, and found reprieve from the other house guests in the library beside her more than once.

"Yeah well, maybe I'm a good liar."

"Doubtful," Hermione chuffed out with a small snort before tightening her grip on Remus' arms and closing her eyes. Her mind went to the streets of London outside Grimmauld Place. Across the street from the Manor was a public transit bench, one she knew was placed there to mask the coming and goings of the magical community who wished to visit Grimmauld Place. The risk of being caught by muggles was only slightly lowered due to the Disillusionment Charm that was supposed to be routinely cast on the small plot of land, however when the Order took over Grimmauld Place it became too risky to apparate anywhere other than the front step of the home.

Hermione's feet touched down on the grass first, before she felt Remus follow. Her apparition only made the softest of pops, similar to the sound of a bubble of gum bursting from an overly enthusiastic child. Her stomach churned; the transportation method (although better than Portkey and Time Turner) was still something she was developing the stomach for years after passing her test.

Sirius was across the street already, waiting impatiently at the foot of the steps of the town home that looked sandwiched between two brownstones; out of place and disjointed compared to the quiet up-and-coming community around it. Hermione looked around in awe for a moment as she took in the scene. The borough of Islington was not exactly run down when she had seen it last, but rather an aging community. The neighbors to Grimmauld Place seemed elderly and so wrapped up in their day-to-day lives of walking their dogs and feeding pigeons that they paid no mind to the strangers coming and going from the invisible home. However now, here in 1979, the neighborhood was thriving. Young children ran up the sidewalks, and young mothers pushed buggies with infants so new to the world they were still pink. The life surrounding the darkened home seemed to make Grimmauld Place physically darker than it had been before.

Pulled from her stupor when Remus moved across the street, careful to avoid any oncoming vehicles, Hermione quickly followed behind, her boots slapping against the pavement as she moved up beside her boyfriend. "Er… Sirius."

"Huh?" Sirius did not bother looking over his shoulder to his girlfriend, beginning up the steps towards the painted black front door, taking two at a time with his large stride.

"What about your father?" Hermione questioned as she followed, her hand sliding along the stone banister. "Won't he be home?"

Sirius let out a short laugh, his hand pausing on the gold doorknob. His father? Home? Circe, that was rich. "He leaves in the morning around eight and doesn't return until after supper. If he's home I would offer up my left bollock to the Gods as a sacrifice out of pure shock." Sirius shook his head as he laughed again at the idea. His father's routine had been far more regular than Walburga's. It had been that way since before he could remember, the only difference being that as Sirius and Regulus aged, his father began to spend more and more hours away from the house. It did not take long for Sirius to figure out Orion was off seeing whores under the pretense of business. He had been ten when he actually stuck around long enough to hear the explosive fight between his parents. Orion Black, the patriarch to the Black family and a fucking liar. When he heard no further protest or questions from either Remus or Hermione, Sirius pulled the heavy wooden door open and slipped inside.

Hermione was the last inside the home, carefully shutting the door behind her as she glanced around the hallway. It was free of dust and cobwebs, and instead of smelling like moth balls and old parchment, the house smelled almost woody. Rich aromas of earthy scents and cinnamon clung to the filigreed wallpaper of the home.

She felt taken aback as she looked around. The house was so familiar, yet so different. The portraits of the ancestral Blacks and melancholy sceneries still littered the walls, but mixed in were the occasional photograph of young Regulus. There were obvious blank spaces where Hermione could only assume pictures of Sirius once hung, the frames removed but the nail from which they hung still jutting from the wall waiting to be filled.

She took slow footsteps as she looked around, trying to adjust to the eerie familiarity of the home she had spent two summers in as she moved after Sirius and Remus who were already halfway down the hall ahead of her. It was then the sound of what Hermione already knew to be the Troll-foot umbrella stand clattered across the hardwood floor. Instinctively her hands went to cover her ears in preparation for the screaming slurs of Walburga but when nothing but silence followed, the realisation set in that there was no need for her portrait yet because Sirius's mother was very much alive still.

Remus looked down at the discolored green leg, eyeing the yellowed brittle toenail of the offending umbrella stand with passive disgust, but he glanced up to Sirius who did not seem at all bothered by the commotion his friend had just caused, and he toed one of the fallen deep purple umbrellas with the toe to his shoe. "Uh...should I-"

"No, don't bother. Kreacher can deal with it," Sirius replied dismissively, waving his hand at the mess before craning his neck around a wall to look into the study off of the foyer. "I'm going to pop up to the library. Reg is usually in there putting about. Remus," Sirius glanced over his shoulder to look at the werewolf before gesturing down a small hallway off to the left of the foyer. "Follow me and you can check the basement."

"What should I do?" Hermione piped up when Sirius gave her no direction on where she should be looking.

"Stay put. Someone needs to block the exit in case he runs," Sirius explained as he withdrew his ironwood wand from his jacket pocket and began down the hallway to the staircase with Remus following closely behind.

Hermione nodded, glancing around the now empty foyer as she listened to their footsteps fade away. "Right… block the exit," she murmured to herself. Pulling her wand from its holster, she flicked it at the spilled umbrella stand, using the same spell Molly had taught her so long ago after Tonks and Ron's umpteenth time of tripping over the less-than-appealing piece of furniture. One by one the umbrellas began to float to the uprighted Troll's foot, and as she scanned the room, making sure they had all made their way back to their proverbial home, just as her brown eyes swept across the opening from hallway leading to the staircase, a pair of black boots appeared in her path.

They were vastly different than the style Sirius wore. Sleek, thin round laces with beautiful detailing on the toe and sides of the boot commonly found in wing-tipped. They were more fashionable than practical, and definitely did not belong to either man she had come to this house with. She froze instantly, her vinewood still gripped loosely in her palm as she let her eyes drift up the body of the stranger watching her. A pair of fitted black trousers, tailored perfectly to his frame. A mulberry vest with large buttons clasped shut, and a soft gray collared shirt. When her eyes finally made their way up to his face, she had to gulp down the expletive she felt ready to whisper .

"My, my, my. What do we have here?" Regulus murmured as his hand lifted, his index finger and thumb stroking his pointed chin as he assessed Hermione from head to toe, striking gray eyes unabashedly running her figure as a smirk that was clearly a trademark Black trait splashed across his features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just noticed I broke 200K last week. Holy cow. Thanks for sticking around this far! I had some other things to update you with but of course I forgot. Maybe I ought to start actually writing them down. ;) Regardless, endless love to KnitKnitRead & Disenchantedglow. Both wonderful ladies helped me with with chapter's plotness and descriptions. I wanted to make sure I got them just right and hope you enjoyed the imagery. Endless hearts (and chocolate) to Islandgurl777, beta extraordinaire. Without her you would read ALL of my typos. and of course, big beautiful giant hearts for all your lovely reviews. <3
> 
> Obligatory reminder:
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> 
> Marauder's Medals for 2018 - Best Romance & Best Pairing.  
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	40. Always Listening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter....except for a shit ton of merch. Lots...and lots....and lots of merch.

**November 6th, 1979 - Grimmauld Place - 13:45**

"My, my, my. What do we have here?"

Hermione felt her heartbeat in her throat. This was...less than ideal. There was no logical explanation she could prove that would explain why she, a strange woman, was standing in the foyer of his home. She was nobody to Regulus, and certainly could not claim any family name he would not immediately be familiar with. Of course, she could come out and say she was here with Sirius, but she expected that would go over as well as a lead balloon. The brothers, from the brief reunion she witnessed, were on less than pleasant terms, and although the details had not been spelled out, Hermione could only speculate what the reasons for that were.

"Uh…" Brown eyes darted past the well-dressed teen to look up the staircase in vain hope Sirius would only be moments away. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What was she supposed to say, exactly? 'Oh, Hello Regulus. Remember me, the girl who watched you cry after your fistfight with Sirius? Yes I'm back and here to discuss your upcoming defection from Voldemort. How do I know? Oh don't worry about that.' Nothing she could have said would have explained why she stood in his foyer. "Hello…" Her right hand lifted, offering the smallest wave as she took a careful step backwards, cursing herself internally for wearing her boots instead of her trainers; a quick getaway would be more difficult.

"Hello?" Regulus returned with lifted brows, his hand on his chin pausing its movement. "Is that all you have to say?" He moved off the last step, his arms coming to cross over his chest.

"What else should I be saying?" Hermione questioned, gulping down the rising anxiety she felt. Now was not the time to allow herself to give in to any sort of trepidation. She needed to remain calm, level-headed, and act like this was entirely fucking normal. She was 'supposed to be here' or at least she needed to make Regulus believe she was. Lifting her chin ever so slightly, she let a fake confidence bubble to the surface, her Auror training beginning to take over the natural flight or fight impulse.

"Well, for starters, you could begin by explaining who you are and what the hell you're doing in my home." Regulus held out his hand, his fingers curled except for his index as he gave a lazy gesture towards her. It was not everyday a pretty brunette turned up in your foyer, but Regulus was far from a dunce. They were at war, and both of his parents were outspoken supporters of Voldemort, which did not boast well for their likeability in the wizarding world. They had to cut down public appearances already, but surely those Order folk were not so bold as to send their members into peoples' homes?

Hermione's eyes flicked behind Regulus to the staircase once more, her teeth biting against the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from stumbling over the lie that was beginning to congeal inside her mind. "Who am I? Did your father not inform you he hired a new secretary?" When Sirius nor Remus made an appearance on the stairs, she let her eyes fall back to Regulus and she forced a small grimace as if to play off his father's supposed error. "He has been a bit forgetful lately, but this is even bad for him."

"My father sent you?" The disbelief was not held from his voice as he eyed the curly-haired witch. This was...most certainly not true. Although unfaithful, Orion Black was not a man with a death wish. He would never hire such a young witch to act as his aid, and beyond that, he would most certainly never hire a witch who wore Muggle trousers-blue jeans, he believed they were called. No, she was lying. Regulus could see right through her words, no matter how practiced they might be. His internal walls were raised silently as pristine white teeth bite his bottom lip. Did he cast out her now or have a little fun first? She was a fit looking witch...alone in his home...and surely he was allowed a bit of distraction from the mess he was wound up in, right? "Where is he? And what did he send you for?"

"He's in-" Fuck, where did the fucking Death Eaters meet? Her mind whirled like a rolodex, her memory bank working in overdrive to catch up to her mouth. "-Wiltshire going over a potential investment opportunity with Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Lestrange. I've been sent to fetch his ledger. He mentioned it should be in the library but I could not remember if he mentioned it was on the second landing or the basement." Hermione could feel small beads of sweat begin to form on the back of her neck as the lies stumbled from her lips, her clammy hands sliding into the back pockets of her jeans in an attempt to hide her tells from the wizard, all the while she walked backwards slowly, working her way around the small foyer.

She was good, Regulus had to give her that. If he was anyone else, like say his dim-witted brother, he might believe what she was saying, but Regulus knew it wasn't true. For starters, Lucius was in France with Narcissa visiting some renowned healer who specialized in women's maladies, and secondly, his father would not be caught dead dealing with Rodolphus or Rabastan after Mabon. They had implied him weak and feeble for not taking the mark, and although not untrue, Orion was too prideful to allow comments like those to slide, even if they were family.

Regulus matched her steps like a prowling jungle cat; each time she stepped backwards, he went forward. When she went left, he followed. He gave her room, but made sure to maintain a close distances. "The library? Surely you mean his study?"

Study? There had been no study when she stayed here? Merlin, did he mean the tapestry room? Shit! "I was just following orders. You know how your father can get." Hermione felt the back of a table brush against her thighs as she skirted around the room, moving slowly until she had managed to flip them around so her back was to the staircase he had just descended.

"So you just let yourself in?…Not knocking during times like these is not advisable, no matter who you are." Regulus let his hand drop, his fingertips brushing the length of the thin table that lined the right of the room, holding small dark artifacts and baubles his mother collected. "These are dark times, you know. Wouldn't want a pretty girl getting hurt because she can't follow the rules."

Hermione couldn't help the small laugh that left her mouth, her hand rising to try and cover it in a feeble attempt to catch it before it reached Regulus' ears. Following the rules? Hermione had been quite shit at that since third year. The rules usually got her in trouble anyways. "I am following a different set of rules…besides, I didn't just let myself in. Kreacher let me in."

Regulus paused his slow chase for a moment, his brow furrowing. Kreacher? No, there is no possible way he would have let her in without summoning him. Since that...night two months ago Kreacher was under strict orders to not open the door or leave the house without Regulus' permission, even if it was the Dark Lord himself calling. The house elf, although put off by the order, listened dutifully. No, it wasn't possible. But what was more curious was that she knew who he was. His house elf was not a secret, but most people outside of the Pureblood families did not know who the help was, let alone their name. He was certain the Order was not on a first name basis with his house elf, so it begged the question who this alluring curly-haired witch was.

Narrowing his eyes on the brunette, Regulus moved forward, darting to the bottom of the staircase she began to climb backwards. Reaching out, his hand snatched her right wrist to prevent her escape as he moved up to the stair below where she stood. Even being one step apart, he was taller than her, to the point that her head had to tilt up just slightly to look into his eyes. "...I remember you."

If she did not look guilty before, she was sure that now her eyes were betraying her. She tried to tug her wrist free from his hand, taking a stumbling step up the stairs to put more space between her and the youngest Black. "Y-You do?" Hermione stammered, "Well I mean...of course you d-do! I've worked with Orion for a-about a year now."

"No. Not from your fake work.. I know you don't work for my father, that was not hard to determine." Regulus's head shook, his shaggy black hair falling across his forehead, his grip tightening on her wrist as she tried to tug away. "No, you were at the party. Mabon."

Hermione's eyes widened ever so slightly. If Regulus was farther away she might have been able to hide it, but with him so close she was certain the astute wizard would notice. Warning bells began to ring in time with her pulse, which beat loudly in her ears. Yanking back harder, Hermione managed to free herself from the almost painful grip "I don't know what you're talking about. I need to go find the information…for your father before-"

"No, I remember you," Regulus insisted following after Hermione as she spun on the stairs and moved to the first landing where the stairs turned to make their way up to the second floor. Reaching out he grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her back to the wall where his arms went to either side of her head, trapping her in the small space. "Your eyes. They're like cinnamon and cocoa sprinkled on top of cream. I wouldn't forget them."

Everything about this screamed _wrong_. His closeness, the way he was practically pinning her to the wall, the fact that somewhere in this house her fucking boyfriend and Remus were seemingly unaware that she was moments away from fucking blowing her cover and hexing Regulus to oblivion just to be able to get away. "As flattering as that is...you don't have the right girl," Hermione lied, tipping up her head as she set her jaw, trying her best to provide a brave face as her hand began to work towards her wand holster.

"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing to my girlfriend, Reg'?"

Hermione's head snapped to the side, and at the top of the stairs on the second floor stood Sirius. His hand rested on the bannister in a death grip while the other held his wand. If looks could kill, Hermione would have assumed Regulus would have been crumpled on the floor by now.

"Oh...that's right. You were with him, weren't you?" Regulus breathed with a long-suffering sigh, slowly pulling away from the wall, his hands going to straighten out his vest as he glanced between the witch and Sirius. "Such a shame you've been keeping poor company…You were rather interesting."

"Poor company?" Sirius moved down the stairs quickly and upon reaching the landing he looked at Hermione to make sure she was okay. Was he mad at her? Of fucking course, but she was still his girlfriend...he still loved her. Despite the lying, and the misgivings, he didn't want her harmed. When Hermione gave him a nod of her head to indicate she was fine, he turned, putting himself between Hermione and Regulus as a sort of shield. Regulus always did have a problem trying to play with things that weren't his as children. Clearly he had never grown out of the habit. "Circe, you always have been a little parrot for Walburga and Orion."

"Mum and Dad," Regulus corrected with a less than subtle roll of his eyes. "And I am not a parrot for them. Your company has been less-than-cultured for many years. It is not a far reach to assume you still associate with Potter and his merry band of misfits."

"Watch it, Reg'," Sirius warned, his voice dropping an octave. He didn't mind taking his brother's shit, but like most siblings, Regulus knew how to quickly incite Sirius' hot temper quicker than anyone else. Even Remus had to actively try and work him up. "Mummy isn't here to stop me this time, _Reggy_."

"Mum wasn't here the last time I hexed your eyebrows off either. I'm not a fucking child anymore, Sirius," Regulus snapped, gray eyes flashing a striking shade of silver as his own temper flared.

"Then stop fucking acting like one!" Sirius spat.

"Whoa, okay...so maybe we just take a moment so you both can calm down." Hermione interrupted the pair, side-stepping around Sirius so she could look at both Black men. The similarities between the two brothers were there, but just as she remembered from last time. Where Sirius was handsome, Regulus was just slightly...dull. His eyes did not hold the same beautiful energy, his jaw wasn't quite as strong. His nose was slightly larger. And Regulus, it seemed, had a good two inches on Sirius, causing him to be more lean, almost lanky in appearance. Truth be told, Regulus seemed to have an almost Snape-like energy coming off him that was more than a little unnerving in the moment. "Can we go downstairs to the living room? Maybe have a cuppa?"

Regulus looked at the witch skeptically. Merlin, she really had no clue what she was asking for did she? Shame though, because she really was quite fit. Clearly her judgement was questionable though, because if what Sirius said was true, any witch who dated him was clearly not right in the head. Looking away from her, Regulus glanced at Sirius before withdrawing a gold pocket watch that was tucked away in a slim pocket on his vest. He flicked it open to check the time. Of course, it was the afternoon. Of course this when he would choose to come invade. "What the fuck are you doing here, Sirius? You knew Mum would be out...which means whatever this-" his free hand waved between Sirius and Hermione before gesturing to the house around them, "-is was done so you wouldn't have to deal with her."

"What? Can't I come home to visit my baby brother?" Sirius returned before looking at Hermione and he nodded his head towards the staircase she had just climbed to indicate she should probably lead the way if they were going to make any progress off of the middle of the staircase.

"You haven't set foot in here for four years, I would hardly call Grimmauld Place your home," Regulus replied, letting his eyes follow the witch as she made her way down the stairs. When Sirius made no move to follow her, obviously intent on making sure Regulus compiled before following, a soft huff was given before he too began to descend the staircase, his hand coming to rest on the wooden bannister. "So no, you cannot just pop on by for a visit. Especially not with your _girlfriend._ "

"You say that word like you don't believe it." Hermione glanced over her shoulder towards the brothers once she reached the first story landing.

"Well last I'd heard he was bedding that wolf-boy, so… no. I don't," Regulus snarked, giving a quick glance over his shoulder to his brother to make sure he wasn't going to attack him when his back was to him before glancing down at the waiting witch. "Unless your bosom is well placed padding or a spell, you don't look like you're of my gender, which means considering his track record with wizards, you lack the proper equipment to be his."

"Merlin's saggy sack, Regulus. You can't fucking talk about-"

Hermione held up a hand to silence her boyfriend who was quickly coming to her defense. As nice as it was to have him defend her, she had gone several years prior to meeting Sirius learning how to defend herself; she certainly did not need him to fight her battles now just because they were together. "Well, Regulus, you're wrong. About many things in life, I am sure. I am your brother's girlfriend, I do not lack any equipment, as you to eloquently put it, because whatever is hidden beneath my sweater is exactly what your brother prefers. Now I would appreciate if you kept your assessment of my figure to yourself and made it to the sitting room so we could all sit down and have a discussion about your poor life choices."

Regulus looked taken aback, his brows nearly in his hairline. Who the bloody hell did she think she was? His poor life choices. For a witch he'd never met she certainly seemed to have opinions about him that were, in his humble opinion, biased. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" he questioned, lifting his had to give his brother a two finger salute at his cackling behind him. Of course he found it funny, fucking prick.

"I didn't," Hermione replied flatly, her hands coming to rest on her hips. Just as she began to gesture to down the hall to where she knew the sitting room was, the unmistakable sound of glass shattering echoed up the stairwell from the basement.

All three of them froze, Regulus' forehead wrinkled with confusion, Hermione and Sirius paralyzed in temporary alarm until what sounded like three more dishes (or perhaps glasses) being thrown against a wall down below were heard.

"I thought you said they were gone!" Sirius reached out, shoving Regulus to the side as he moved past him to begin down the stairs, taking two at a time in his hurry to descend into the house.

"They are gone," Regulus replied, and just as he moved to follow his brother, the witch reached out to push him back so she could follow.

Hermione withdrew her vinewood, hand wrapping confidently around the thin wood as she hurried down the stairs. "Then who else is here?"

"That is a very good fucking question. Who else is here?" Regulus moved far more leisurely than the witch and his brother, not bothering to withdraw his own wand. It wasn't like he would need it, what with the two of them being more than eager to pull theirs out. Instead, he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, ambling down the stairs and into the kitchen.

On entering the kitchen, Regulus was greeted by the sight of Kreacher standing on top of the counter on the opposite wall of the kitchen, a stack of off-white plates on one hand while the other threw them towards a cowering male who had managed to slide himself under the bench to the left of the table. His brother and the supposed girlfriend were already halfway across the long narrow room, each taking opposite sides of the table in an attempt to defuse the house elf.

"Uninvited guest! You must leave! Beastilies are not welcome!" the iriate house elf yelled towards the man on the floor. His was voice raspy and almost weak, which was in clear contradiction to whatever burst of energy the aging servant currently had.

"I'll show you a beast, you wrinkly sack!" Remus growled from beneath the bench, his wand darting out from underneath, and a sticking hex was sent towards Kreacher in an attempt to freeze the house elf to the countertop. Instead the spell hit a flying dinner plate, sending it careening back through the air before attaching itself to large landscape painting of what looked to be a graveyard at sunset.

"You filthy beast! How dare you ruin Mistress's favorite painting!" Kreacher howled before snapping his fingers. Across the room a drawer was thrown open and the ten sets of steak knives inside lifted out of the drawer before they began to zip across the room towards Remus.

Hermione, who happened to be the lucky one to choose the right side of the table, let out a scream in surprise, ducking just in time to miss the volley of knives as they shot across the kitchen. Once cleared of immediate danger, she stood up, the tip of her wand finding Remus who stood like a deer in headlights, his mind not yet catching up to the danger headed his way. " _Protego!_ " A translucent shield emerged from her wand, flying across the room to land in front of Remus. The spell took the hit from the knives as designed, the metal curling in protest at the sudden impact.

"Get your fucking plaything off my friend, Reg!" Sirius shouted, ducking to miss a plate that had been intended for Remus.

"Now why would I do that, big brother?" Regulus had opted to sit at the end of the table, his feet propped up and his fingers locked behind his neck, elbow cast out as he watched the scene unfold with unbidden amusement. This was a bit of an overreaction on Kreacher's part, even he had to admit, but if the house elf felt that the proper handling of this situation was to throw cutlery and the flatware then so be it. "He is just doing his job… protecting the house."

"Protecting the house?!" Sirius snarled incredulously as he flourished his wand at a vase perched in the corner of the room before directing it towards the violent the house elf in an attempt to pull the servant's attention away from Remus. "I swear to fucking Merlin if you don't tell him to stop right this instant I am going to chop off his fucking ears."

The vase smashed against the wall just to the left of the house elf, who was not at all phased by the flying object. Instead, it seemed he doubled his efforts on lobbing items at Remus, using both magical and physical means. "Filthy dirty beastie!"

"Sirius!" Hermione scolded from across the table. "He doesn't know any better. You can't blame him for-" Her words cut off when a stray dish broke against her back, causing her to inhale sharply. "-this," she grit out, ducking to take cover underneath the table, crawling on her hands and knees to work her way towards Remus.

"Are you taking a piss, Hermione? You literally just got hit with a salad bowl. There are fucking knives flying in the air next to my grandmother's chafing dish. I'm pretty certain the little shit knows what he's doing!" Sirius snapped, snatching a metal ladle from the air before tossing it up in front of him before casting his wand at the utensil. " _Ventus!_ " A jet of air spiralled from the tip of his wand towards the descending ladle and it shot across the room at a break-neck speed, clipping the small elderly elf in the arm. "Knock if off, you repulsive varmint."

Kreacher howled in pain. The stack of plates crashed to the floor as he stumbled back on the counter top. Oversized feet were not helping him in this moment, as he seemed to trip over himself and land on his backside on the countertop as he clutched his appendage, which from the looks of it, could very well be broken. Even for house elf standards, Kreacher was old. Nearly 600 years on this earth did not leave him adept to take much physical abuse anymore.

Regulus sat up instantly, his eyes wide with concern as he watched Kreacher begin to writhe in pain. The Black temper began to flare as he stood, sending the chair he had been sitting in clattering to the floor behind him as he withdrew his wand from his pocket. Just as he leveled his wand at his brother, preparing to take retribution for injuring their family's most loyal member, the witch (Hermione, was that we he heard Sirius call her?) crawled out from under the table, looking equally as furious.

"SIRIUS ORION!" Her wand sliced across the room, and the bench that Remus was still partially tucked under slammed against her boyfriend's shins as she moved quickly towards the house elf. "He's...He's old Sirius! You can't just fucking hurt him!" she scolded, eyes softening on the wrinkled Kreacher. Laying her wand on the countertop, she reached out tentatively for Kreacher.

"Mudblood. Filthy disgusting Mudblood!" Dark eyes hardened on Hermione, his body literally shying away from her touch. "Don't touch Kreacher. Master Sirius brings home Beastlies and Mudbloods. Mistress will not be happy, not be happy indeed."

Sirius' head snapped up as Kreacher's words registered. What did he call her?! "Watch your fucking tongue, before I cut it out!" he shouted, beginning to hobble towards them, wincing as the pain from the bench against his legs shot down his legs.

"Oh shut it. Let me just fix your arm and I won't bother you again," Hermione sighed at the house elf, her hand lifting to silence Sirius. Despite the cruel words that spewed from the house elf, she knew he didn't mean them. He was taught to hate. Hell, she could remember their very first meeting in Grimmauld Place years ago and how Sirius had told her then his mother had literally taught the house elf how to sense where people's lineage derived from. He was quite literally like a police bloodhound, except instead of finding people, he was used to making sure anyone associated with the most noble and ancient house of Black was that of pure blood. Anything less would never be tolerated.

"Hermione, are you fucking daft? That fucking hairless rat just tried to maim me," Remus hoisted himself out from under the table and onto the bench, his hands going up to rub a particularly sore spot on his head. "Don't fucking heal it."

"If any of you hurt him further, I assure you, you will wish you restrained me earlier," Regulus informed his brother, a deep frown over his features as he hurried past them towards Hermione who seemed to be (unsuccessfully) trying to heal the discontent elf. It was curious, to see a witch willing to stand up for someone like Kreacher. Most people treated them like dirt, hell even his parents were not kind to Kreacher! It was something that had bothered him for ages, knowing that people felt like they were disposable. Like they were things as opposed to… well, people. "Kreacher, let her heal you," he told the House Elf who was trying to push himself away from the witch.

"M-Master? But she's...she's a-"

"Kreacher, let her heal you… She will do you no harm. Isn't that right...Hermione?" He tested her name on his tongue, cold gray eyes flashing over to the curly-haired witch who gave him a curious look before she nodded.

"It'll be quick… painless," she promised.

In truth, it should have been quick. And painless, but by the time Kreacher was finally convinced Hermione was not going to kill him with what he kept referring to as 'stolen magic', his little arm had swollen to size of an aluminum can. Once properly healed, and given a pain potion from Regulus, Kreacher crept away to his quarters to lick his wounds, only after receiving a promise from Regulus that he would not pick up the mess, so Kreacher could come in later and do his job.

Sirius and Remus were sitting on one of side of the table, while Regulus and Hermione at on the other in an awkward silence. No one dared to utter a word as the brothers looked at one another, as if communicating their disdain for one another telepathically.

Finally, Regulus had enough of the silence, his hands pressing flat into the table top. "What the fuck are you doing here, Sirius?" Regulus questioned.

"I told you. I came to visit." Sirius pressed the pads of his fingers into the carved runes of his ironwood, letting them imprint into his skin temporarily. It was a nervous habit he had developed since taking possession of his wand-his great grandfather's wand. A family heirloom that Sirius equally hated and revered.

"And you needed reinforcements?" Regulus gestured to Hermione and Remus.

"No!" Sirius was quick to reply with a cursory shake of his head. "Well. I mean...I brought them because you have a tendency to run from me. I needed to make sure you didn't sneak away before we could talk."

"I have not run away from you since I was twelve, Sir' " Regulus deadpanned, gray eyes rolling towards the ceiling as he let out a long-suffering sigh. This was going nowhere. Sirius was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. And if he was being honest, Regulus didn't really give a shit why he was here. He just needed to leave before their mother returned because Regulus really did not feel like dealing with the fallout of that reunion tonight.

"Semantics." Sirius set his wand down in front of him on the table, carefully lining it up with a small crack in the wood before waving his hand. "It doesn't really matter who I've brought. They're here with me because…" Sirius gulped, glancing over to Hermione before back to his brother, trying to find the right words.

"Because we have some things to discuss," Hermione offered.

"Yeah...what she said,." Sirius sighed.

"And what, pray tell, did you want to discuss?" Regulus looked to the witch to his right before across the narrow table to his brother.

"Well, I mean...I suppose we can start with that fucking mark on your arm." Sirius did not hide the disdain in his voice as he gestured towards Regulus' forearm. "That might be a good place to start."

Regulus' hand went instinctively to cover up the mark hidden beneath his clothing, his jaw setting as he looked between the three sets of eyes that were on him, gray eyes turning even more cold as he mentally began to erect walls to prevent himself from allowing the judgement so heavily woven into his brother's words to hurt him more than he already had. The mark was a mistake. He had been misguided-no, confused. He was fucking sixteen years old when he took it and although legally a man, he was far from prepared for what it meant. He couldn't tell his brother these things! Especially not when there were other people in the room he either did not know nor was particularly fond of. It had been nearly four years since Sirius had left this home...he was practically a stranger at this point. Remus was… an acquaintance, at the very most. A wizard who paid him no mind growing up. And then of course, the cinnamon-eyed witch. Someone who claimed to be his brother's, yet defended a house elf who spewed hate at her. Someone he could not put his finger on.

"That is none of your business," Regulus affirmed, his spine straightening as he shifted in the chair.

"The fuck it isn't. Reg' what the fuck are you thinking?" Sirius leaned across the table, his hand roughly snatching Regulus's wrist and pulling his forearm across the table before yanking up the arm of his oxford, sending the small buttons that held the cuff together flying. "You think this isn't any of my bleeding business? You're my brother! My family...You… you're fucking following a mad man! What the bloody fuck were you thinking Reg'?"

Regulus fought to pull down the arm of his shirt to cover the inky black brand that seemed brighter than normal against his alabaster skin. "S-Stop!" Regulus snarled, roughly pulling at his arm until Sirius released it from where he had pinned it against the table, curling his wrist against the center of his chest as he leaned back in the chair. A brief flash of remorse flashed through the silver in his eyes as he looked, crestfallen, at his brother. "Don't...Don't sit there and judge my choices Sirius. I did what I had to...to survive in this house, at school. You left and suddenly their attention was thrust on me. I...I did what I thought was right."

"What you thought was right?" Remus echoed, his brows lifted and he shook his head, sandy blonde fringe drifting into his jade green eyes as he looked down, biting his lip to prevent himself from joining in the inquisition. This wasn't his place, he knew that. This was between Sirius and Regulus, but Remus could not help but find it very hard to believe what the younger Black had said.

"You cannot sit there and tell me that you think what piece of shit is saying is valid." Sirius frowned, hard lines setting in his forehead. "Regulus you just defended Kreacher! He's not a fucking wizard, he has no blood purity but you just defended him! That is-"

"I KNOW! I FUCKING KNOW!" Regulus shouted, his hands slamming onto the table, rattling the fallen cutlery and broken plates that still littered the surface. A small whirl of uncontrolled magical energy fizzled in the air, crackling audibly.

"THEN WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING HIM?!"

"Stop it!" Hermione's tongue ran along her bottom lip nervously as she looked between the two brothers. Reaching across the table, her hand sought out Sirius' in hopes to calm him down so they could have this conversation in a more civil manner, but as soon as her fingertips brushed his fingers he pulled back, turning to the left in his chair to avert his gaze. Letting out a shaky breath, she moved her hand across the soft uneven plains on the wooden tabletop slowly. Hurt by Sirius' rejection, a small flash of sorrow flashed in her eyes before she pushed it down. Now was not the time. No, they could work on them later. "What Sirius is _trying_ to say is we're here to discuss the possibility of you having some information that might be of use to us."

"Why the hell would I help the Order?" Regulus sneered.

"Because your dark lord is a bloody cunt," Sirius murmured.

"Because killing people isn't a fucking sport," Remus added shortly after, shrugging as he averted his gaze from the perturbed witch.

"Because," her voice was crisp and firm as she shot narrow eyes to each wizard across the table before letting her eyes find Regulus once more. "I believe you might have had a change of heart about who you have pledged your allegiance to."

"Is that so? And you are basing this off what exactly? A bloody feeling?" Regulus scoffed. He knew it wasn't her fault, but seeing as she was taking the apparent lead on having this conversation he would let her feel the brunt of his anger if needed. Besides, she obviously associated with the assholes across the table; she clearly wasn't innocent!

"Because I know what he did to Kreacher."

Regulus could feel the color drain from his face and his lips parted as an uneven breath was released. "What?" That was… impossible. No one knew! Not even Severus or… or his father or Lucius. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to know! "H-How do you know?"

Remus snorted from across the table, leaning back in his chair so it tipped back on two legs. "She's the fucking Time Lord. She knows everything."

"It doesn't really matter how I know, because it's true. Isn't it?" Hermione leaned over towards Regulus, brown eyes trying to cut past his sudden apprehension to see the truth hidden beneath his words. "You don't want to follow him anymore...and you know what he is hiding."

"Shut up! No," Regulus was the first to rise from the table, Sirius quickly following with his wand curled in his hand. "I-I'm devoted to the Dark Lord. He knows the truth and will lead us to a second coming for the wizarding world!" The line was rehearsed, something he had said on more than one occasion and most definitely in the presence of the evil wizard in question. Regulus looked around the room, silver eyes darting between the various paintings in the room whose conversations seemed to lower to a low rumble as soon as Hermione began to question his loyalty. Reaching out, Regulus' arm curled around Hermione's bicep almost painfully tight and he pulled her up from the chair, his mouth finding her ear as he began to drag her out of the room.

"Oi! What the fuck are you doing? Get your hands off her!" Sirius could be heard shouting behind them, moving quickly after the pair.

"...you should not have come. This was a bad idea," Regulus' voice was barely a whisper, so faint beneath the shouting coming from behind them as Regulus dragged Hermione up the stairs to the foyer, his eyes darting between the portraits which were beginning to whisper.

"Regulus you don't have to do this," Hermione pleaded, wincing as he pulled her closer when they pushed through the narrowing of the top of the stairs into the foyer.

"You need to leave...you ALL need to leave right bloody now!" Releasing the witch, Regulus turned to look at Remus and Sirius who were running after them, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. "You were mistaken. My loyalty is not to you..a...a blood traitor."

"Fuck you! I'm here risking my fucking neck to try and save you. You're a fucking idiot," Sirius spat, moving quickly across the foyer to roughly shove his brother against the wall.

"Regulus you don't have to do this!" Hermione tried to reason. Moving quickly over to the pair who seemed seconds away from squaring off like they had at the Mabon party, she grabbed ahold of Sirius' shoulders and began to try and pry him from Regulus.

"I said leave… you all **need** to leave," Regulus grit out through clenched teeth before purposefully finding Hermione's eyes. Ever so slightly his widened before his gaze drifted over to the portrait across the hall from where Sirius had backed him up.

It was a nobleman, from long ago. The fifteen-hundreds by the look of his clothing and knowing Walburga's taste, he might have been a distant relative. The normally chatty portrait was as quiet as the grave, intent on watching the fight occur but also...he seemed eager to pick up on something else. Like he had been listening for quite some time, trying to read between the lines of what was being said.

Hermione, ever the clever witch, seemed to pick up on what Regulus was trying to say without directly confessing. The portraits were spies. They reported the comings and goings of his house back to… well she could only assume Voldemort, or perhaps a high ranking member of his inner circle. "Oh…" She looked down the hallway, brown eyes flitting from picture frame to picture frame, noticing the way each of the magical portraits seemed far too eager to hear what was being said. "No, he's right Sirius. We cannot convince him…"

"What?!" Sirius looked over his shoulder to Hermione, his face white with shock. "S-So we leave!? You're okay with letting him d-."

"I don't think anything we say will convince him!" Hermione interrupted quickly.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me! I was almost murdered by a rabid house elf and you're just going to leave because he said so?!" Remus knew this was going to be a stretch, but surely she was not giving up because the little asshole said no. This was very unlike the Hermione he had come to know. Hell, he told her he didn't like her several times but she kept coming around!

"Yes, Remus." Hermione kept her words clipped, brown eyes widening on him before she moved her eyes between the werewolf and the closest portrait exaggeratedly. "Isn't it obvious? Regulus is far too gone for us to save."

"Ooooh…Yes! He is." Remus nodded slowly as it clicked. He really did not give her enough credit at times; Hermione was more perceptive than he would have ever guessed. Moving forward, he took over wrangling the struggling Sirius who beginning to try and grab ahold of the front of Regulus clothing as he was being pushed down the hallway to the front door. "Padfoot, come on. Your brother doesn't want our help."

"Moony no! You can't fucking give up. Both of you can't just bloody give up!"

Hermione and Regulus stood frozen, temporarily paralyzed as they watched tears leak from the corners of Sirius' eyes as he fought against Remus to get back to his brother, desperate to make him realise the error of his ways. "Fuck…" Hermione breathed. She knew this was not going to be easy, but the pain her boyfriend felt was almost excruciating. She just needed to get him out of here and then they could explain what was going on. Why they had to leave, why they couldn't just tell him in Grimmauld Place. Her hand lifted to push her wild curls behind her ear before beginning down the hallway, heavy boots thumping against the wooden floor.

Regulus trailed closely behind the witch, gray eyes downcast, afraid if he lifted them to watch Sirius any further he would burst into tears himself. Once at the opened door, his hand gripped softly against the heavy wood, nails biting into the lack paint as he lifted his head to look at Hermione who seemed to linger on his front porch. What else could she possibly want from him? He couldn't talk, not here. There was nothing left to say!

Turning on the first step of the home, Hermione grabbed a fistful of his vest and yanked him out of the house beside her on the narrow ledge as her other hand waved at the front door he had just been holding open and with a bit of wandless magic it shut with a loud snap. Tipping her head back to look up at his face, she held him close, her hand still fisted in his clothing. "Don't go to Crystal Cove, Regulus."

"How do you know about that?"

"Just don't go…You need to come see us and I can explain everything. Just promise me you won't go?" Hermione looked across the street briefly, watching Sirius struggle against Remus to return back to Grimmauld Place. Although she could not make out his shouts over the sound of motorcars running down the road, she was sure they were not well wishes for the youngest Black.

"I...I need-"

"Answers? I know. I will provide them, I swear it, but you absolutely cannot go, Regulus." Hermione let go of his vest, fingers smoothing the fabric in an attempt to unrumple his clothing as she took one step down the stone staircase. "There are things you cannot imagine in that cave...Things you cannot heal from."

Regulus nodded, gulping. He knew this was true. He knew whatever was in there had almost killed Kreacher, and he knew about...what he hid. The locket….the Horcrux. But he also knew that if he did not try and stop him then there was a very real possibility Voldemort would win.

"Come to Puddlemere, okay? Give me two days, and come to Puddlemere." Hermione began backwards down the stairs, her hand trailing on the banister for balance. "I'll owl you his address, okay? Or you...you can floo! Just not from here. The Leaky! Come from the Leaky!"

"O-Okay... Alright, I'll come."

"Alright. Good…Just don't go. Okay? Don't go." Hermione nodded, tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips before she turned when Sirius' seemed to get even louder in his attempt to make it back across the busy road, and she hurried down the fading walkway towards the Apparition point across the street, narrowly weaving through traffic to help subdue Sirius.

"Hermione, please… please, we can't leave him," Sirius pleaded as Hermione moved over to the group, his voice wavering between angry and fearful as he fought through his hot tears. "Hermione, go back and get him."

"It'll be okay, Sirius." Reaching out for her boyfriend, she let one of her hands find out, fingers lacing into his. "He'll be okay." Although not a lie, she wasn't certain if she could even believe it. If Regulus was anything like his brother, she knew there was a distinct possibility he might not listen. She just prayed her words, no matter how vague, were enough to keep him from searching for answers in that cave of horrors.

Across the street, still standing on the first step of his home, Regulus watched as Hermione took his brothers hand and the werewolf's to take lead on getting them out of Muggle London. Sirius' fighting seemed to lessen when her fingers laced with his and whatever words she spoke succeeded in damping his fire. Sirius seemed to slump against Remus, his free hand lifting to cover his face as his shoulder shook with silent grief. Regulus' heart ached, his fingers trembling, itching to reach out and hug his brother once more. To tell him sorry for being a terrible brother all those years at school. To ask for forgiveness for his sins. But he knew if he stepped off this ledge there was no returning. He wouldn't come back, and he owed it to the people he had helped hurt to make this right.

Just before they Apparated, Hermione looked over her shoulder at him once more. Her big cinnamon colored eyes seemed to urge him to hold true to the promise he had made only moments ago. Silently begging him to not go to Crystal Cove and to come find them in two days' time. And as much as he wanted to leave this very night and figure out what apparent horrors she spoke of, Regulus felt compelled to listen. There was something about her, something he could not quite put his finger on that seemed to draw him in like a moth to the flame. He had a small feeling he might get burned, but Regulus knew in that moment that he needed to figure her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow... Chapter 40 and over 200K words. Yikes. I never thought this story would get this long. I estimated this to be about a 50 chapter story but I was waaay off. The end is in sight, but it's a marathon, not a race and I am trying to give you to best story possible. I am so incredibly thankful for those of you who have stuck with me through the beginning and continue to shower me with your love in the form of reviews. That truly does inspire me to give you this content faster. Sorry for the small posting delay this week, but I have a feeling mid-week posts might have to move to weekend due to my and my beta's schedules. Either way, I can continue to promise at least one chapter a week. :)
> 
> I hope you got to enjoy a glimpse into Regulus and I am genuinely curious about what you all think of him! If you feel so inclined, let me know!
> 
> Side note: When Regulus says "Sir'" I am not envisioning it pronounced like sir ( /sər/ ) but rather like Seer. Essentially just how you would say the first part of his full name. I know this is a SUPER minor detail, but I just wanted to point it out. These are all the tiny tidbits that run through my mind while I type this story. :)
> 
> Obligatory reminder:  
> RtFT was nominated in two upcoming awards. peep below to vote, and check out the other nominee's and categories!
> 
> Marauder's Medals for 2018 - Best Romance & Best Pairing. (VOTING ENDS ON 10/22/2018)  
> htt*ps:*/*docs*.*m/*forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdGm5P_*Ehq5Sjxdut6wJd71jZbh1EMQLREyDFhXlqhVfJ3VuA*/viewform  
> (make sure to remove the '*')
> 
> Beyond the Book Fanfiction Book's Summer Awards 2018 (VOTING ENDS ON 11/11/2018)  
> Favorite Time-Turner  
> ht*tps:*/*docs*.*google*.*com*/*forms/d/e/1F*AIpQLSf9h*-*zaH8s*TTErFV0GU*_R1bCLNU*DW*-*HszRz*cuH*J7Ik*k3lCZbA/view*form  
> (remove all '*')


	41. Melancholy Stars

**November 6th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 17:23**

"I've seen the future Sirius and you're not bloody there! Two completely different fucking timelines and in each one there is a Sirius-shaped hole torn through not only my heart, but the people who loved you as well!" Hermione felt fire in her bones as she stood across the bedroom from her boyfriend, brown eyes ablaze with the conviction that oozed into her words. "I am not going to go back a third time and have to relive that fucking pain again…not after everything we've been through. There will not be a third chance for me to come back here, you do bloody well know that right?! There almost wasn't a third chance!-"

"I GET IT!" Sirius snapped, his hand slamming into the top of their shared dresser, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw her flinch at the noise. His tears had dried the moment they walked through the front door of his flat and the sorrow was replaced by a rage that he had never felt before. He was not just mad, he was fucking furious. But his anger was not being directed properly; even in the state he was in he knew this. He had reason to be upset with her, yes, but she was taking the full force of his storm when blame also lay with his own kin. "You fucking risked a lot coming back. Trust me, I fucking get it! But that does not give you the right to bloody withhold information from me about my fucking family, Hermione!"

"I wasn't withholding information!" Hermione knew that she should walk away from this argument. She should grab her bag, and excuse herself. Fuck she should have told Remus she would pick up dinner tonight, but she could sense the werewolf was restless. He had barely recovered from the full moon before she and Sirius dragged him to Grimmauld Place, so his normal solitude post-transformation was cut dramatically short. She had already asked so much from him, that dealing with an upset Sirius almost seemed unfair. Even if the werewolf would have happily taken her place. "I...I just didn't feel it pertinent to bring up every fucking detail yet. Jesus-fucking Christ, can't you just see that I was trying to protect you?!"

Sirius growled. He hated it when she was so far lost in her thoughts-or in this case anger that she used Muggle phrases. It meant that she was too far lost into the argument for her automatic translation from muggle idioms to wizarding to work. And the sick, fucked up, broken part of him grew excited. Because somewhere in the madness of this gripping, pulsing, consuming anger bubbled the hint of arousal. Sirius was, for all intents and purposes, broken. He had been for ages. Long before he found James, Remus and Peter. And he would not consider himself a better man, but he would wager he would be for years to come. If Hermione's future spoke any truth to what they were trying to prevent, it seemed he managed to continue to fuck up his life in at least one of two timelines so far. "I didn't ASK for your protection!"

"You didn't have to!" It was Hermione's turn to physically materialize her anger. She grabbed a pillow from the bed, and tossed it as hard as she could to the raven-haired wizard before she could register what she had done. He should consider himself lucky she had left her wand in the living room because she had a history of sending flocks of tweeting little birds at love interests who pressed on her last nerve. When his feral grow grew at her actions, a chill ran the length of her spine, lifting the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck. "I...I told you not to fucking get involved with me! I told you I wasn't available. I didn't…I didn't need to fall in love with you because I knew this would happen. I don't get to do the nice thing here, Sirius! I am being fucking forced to do what's right, regardless of how bad it fucking hurts!"

Sirius batted the flying pillow away, sending it to the floor with umph. His eyes blazed brighter and he moved across the small room in a flash, his shoulders shaking with emotions he could not stop. "So what? This is just another fucking inconvenience for you?" His voice was low, menacing as he backed her to the wall until his hands met the soft plaster on either side of her head, trapping her. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Hermione?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Her brow furrowed as her jaw set, her mouth working like she held a mouthful of bees as she tried to calm herself down before she said something she might regret later. Arthur had mentioned Sirius and Remus were oil and ice before his passing, and if what he said was true, then she was flame. Together they worked beautifully, cohesive and at ease, but when lit they burned. "Sirius," her chest heaved with breath as her brown eyes held his gray in a steady gaze, not daring to break away. "You have to fucking trust me...You HAVE to trust I'm doing what is right…and that I will save everyone I can…"

Sirius let out a laugh so hollow it even stung his own heart. He sounded like his father...fucking cruel and cold. Perhaps malice was another family trait he had inherited. "I could say the same to you…" His eyes dropped from hers and ran the length of her neck, watching the vein bulge with every pump of blood it pushed through her veins, and down to the dipping collar of her shirt and he gulped. The impulse to push his emotions down into the neat little box in the pit of his stomach was growing more and more with each breath he took. When he was younger he used to deal with these overwhelming feelings by fighting. He'd kick, he'd scream, he'd fight with all his worth until he passed out from sheer exhaustion, but as he grew he found shagging a far better release. The rippling tide of orgasm overpowered his trauma and he was made to mask his hurt and anxiety better than any fist fight could. He needed that release now. Deep down he knew he needed to trust her, but he was broken. She was supposed to be the one person who wouldn't hurt him, which is why her deceit felt so raw and rigid. Like broken glass against an old wound, it felt like it might scar worse than before if he didn't heal it properly.

When Sirius' eyes found hers once more, they looked blown, like a hurricane mixing the pain of their fight with the confusion that lined the surface beneath his skin, and she inhaled sharply. She knew what was coming, but it didn't prepare her for the impact of his mouth on hers. She tasted metal inside of her mouth as he met her lips a bit too hard and for a moment she felt paralyzed under his dominant touch as he forced her against the wall, clearly intent on using his old methods of coping. Sex. Sex was the answer to every bloody problem he held, and while she was normally willing to comply, now it just felt...wrong. Her hands met his chest quickly, shoving as hard as she could against his frame, and when he stumbled back she brought the back of her wrist up to her mouth in an attempt to wipe away his passion from her lips. "Sirius, Stop! We are not-"

He was on her once more, grabbing at her waist, and this time he pulled her to him, his mouth finding hers despite her protests as he tried to pull her into the sensory tornado that was overwhelming him. This time, she fought back quicker than before. She shoved him with the full force of her strength, sending him stumbling backwards until her thighs met the edge of his bed and when his eyes opened he could feel unwanted tears began to form in the corners. No… no this wasn't happening. He needed her. He needed her to help him forget. He needed her to help him through this mess she created! He wasn't fucking prepared to actually process the thick tendrils of guilt and anger that were clutching his heart to the point of pain.

"I SAID NO!" Hermione shouted, her words echoing off the walls, and her magic sizzled through the air like an electrical current. "God DAMNIT, Sirius! This...This is the fucking problem! We need to fucking deal with this shit. Stop trying to drown your bloody emotions!"

Sirius shook his head, shaky hands lifting to cover his face as he crumbled on the bed. This...this wasn't happening. He wasn't ready. It felt like the world was caving in, like everything he had known and loved was slipping between his fingertips. He had taken all of her news so well, he'd put on a brave faced, shed silent tears and vowed to help her right the wrongs of her past-his future- but he had never really processed it, had he? Even after Arthur's death, he had never really truly stopped to think what the fuck her being here meant. "H-Her-mione," he gasped, shaggy black hair falling to provide a veil as he leaned forward to press his shoulders to his knees. "I-I… I-I Ca-n't…" Couldn't what? Deal with the guilt if his brother died? What about James and Lily? Would that guilt eat his soul the same way this one did? Because it was his fault Regulus sought out his parents' approval. He'd abandoned him. Tucked tail and ran at the first bloody chance he got! "B-b-bre-athe."

Hermione stood frozen, her heart thundering a symphony of pain beneath her ribs as she watched him breathe, unmoving. His loud gasps, his shoulders shaking and she saw the sparkle of fresh tears slip between his fingers covering his face and down his wrists. The droplets hitting the carpet of his bedroom in thunderous waves as for the first time in a very fucking long time if she had to guess, Sirius was forced to face the demons that lay hidden beneath his surface. She hesitated, unsure if her touch of comfort would help ease his grief, but then he looked up at her. His tempest colored eyes were broken; her feet carried her to him. All anger vanished. Sirius needed her, just as she needed him.

This mission had truly had become their shard burden. Something that she would never have been able to do alone. They moved in sync, her body slipping between his knees as he wrapped his arms around her middle to bury his face against the soft of her stomach and her fingers wound through his hair on soft strokes as she held him close, praying she could give him the support he needed in this moment. Sirius was more damaged and broken than he ever alluded to. He never stood a chance to leave Grimmauld Place whole, but so were shooting stars. He was a bright spot in a pit of darkness, and although she could not be certain, she had a feeling his brother's flame might be saveable too.

His fingers clutched the back of her shirt, pulling softly at the cotton as he hid his shame in her abdomen. His tears felt hot as they clung to the fabric, but he couldn't stop the deluge once it began. His heart thumped a traitorous beat as he gave in to parts of himself that he tried to hide from the world. He could feel her fingers smoothing his hair, like a mother would to an upset child, and the idea made his hold her tighter, pulling her closer, trying to absorb the caring gentle nature that was his girlfriend that he had never experienced before. "D-don't leave me…don't fucking leave. I'm sorry… I'm sorry..."

"Shhh." There was no fighting it. She was getting sucked down in his grief and knew there was no way to prevent it. At best she could hope to find a life preserver to pull herself afloat. "I'm not...I'm not leaving, Sirius. I'm here...I'm-" she couldn't promise to never leave. They both knew her time was ticking, but it wouldn't help to point out that fallacy now, would it? "I'm sorry...I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Her right hand moved down to his cheek, thumb stroking across the two days' worth of rough black stubble that was now slick with salty tears, and she carefully tugged his face up until just his chin rested against her belly. He looked… ashamed. His eyes refused to find hers for a second time and her heart broke knowing it was the last bit of his defenses he clung to. "I'm so sorry, Sirius…"

He felt her lean down, and he felt her lips press against his forehead as she sank to her knees between his legs. She cupped his face, his tears still leaking from his eyes and her hot breath washed over his skin as she began to kiss and whisper her apologies to him. Her lips traversed his face like a map, pressing lightly against the corners of his eyes, across the high of his sharp cheekbones and down across his nose. Lavishing him with love and devotion that was entirely new and unique. He shook, unable to stop as dredging waves of suppressed feelings eviscerated his ability to push it all away.

Her lips collected his salty tears as she made her way across his jawline; her tongue darted out to wick them from her lips before she pressed a final kiss on his lips. Pulling away before it could be deepened, she pressed her forehead against his. Their noses brushed and it was then she realised that the tears she felt were not just his alone anymore. While providing him the strength he needed to let down his guard and process years of abuse and anger properly, she had let the weight she had been carrying for so long fall from her shoulders.

For what felt like an eternity, they stood there, perched on the edge of the bed crying and clinging to one another. With gasping breaths and hot tears, they laid bare their insecurities and fears until the burden they carried washed away with the tears that littered the floor. Hermione was the first to move, slowly easing up from the carpet, her knees aching fiercely as she stood. Sirius' hands clung to her arms, not ready to let go of the comfort her presence provided, and she sniffled. "Sirius...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you...I love you so much. I'm so sorry."

He nodded, eyes bloodshot from his tears lifting to her face and he gulped down his pride. This wasn't just about him, or his brother. This was about something so much fucking bigger than the Marauders and he had lost sight of that in his rage. "I love you, Hermione… You're the best thing...that's ever been mine. You said you can't lose me, but it's the fucking same for me too, can't you see that? I can't fucking risk losing you either! I can't risk losing anyone...James, Lily...R-Reg too. You can't do this alone…" His voice was rough and gravelly, but it pushed forward despite the sharp bite from his throat. "I...I need to know... I need to know everything, Hermione. I'm supposed to be helping you. Even if it fucking hurts, I need to know."

Hermione nodded, her frizzing curls bouncing with the quick jostling. "I will... I swear I will. I'm sorry." When Sirius pulled her back in for a tight hug around her middle, his face burying against her stomach, she didn't fight him. She let him tug her with him as he moved onto his bed, until they lay wrapped in each others' arms with their heads on the pillows.

Her heartbeat tattooed his cheek as he lay his head against her chest, wanting to feel the thumping rhythm in hopes he could slow the stream of tears that had yet to cease their fall down his face. His right arm curled around her hips, fingers curling tightly against her shirt as his eyes closed as he nuzzled against her skin. He wanted to envelope her smell around him. The wild flowers and honey he had craved so so long. It would calm him, even during the worst of dreams. Even now it seemed to ease some of his pain, but as it began to knit his heart back together, it moved slowly. Years of carefully avoiding the pain had meant the wound was larger than it should have been.

He heard his bedroom door open, and he could feel Hermione's head lift off the pillow and crane to the threshold, but he didn't dare move. Not ready to face the world just yet.

Hermione watched Remus hover, jade green eyes flicking between the grief-stricken man in her arms and her face and she lifted her right hand from Sirius' hair and motioned for him to come inside with a silent curl of her fingers.

Remus hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but when he watched a silent sob shake Sirius' shoulders, his uncertainty vanished. Dinner could wait. Besides, it wasn't like the sandwiches he had picked up would spoil instantly if left on the counter. Toeing off his shoes, Remus pulled his jumper from over his head and let it fall into a small wooden chair tucked into the corner of the room before he crawled on the bed behind Sirius.

The bed dipped with new weight, and Sirius stiffened, his fingers pressing almost bruisingly into the small of Hermione's back as that dirty shameful feeling took hold once more. He felt Remus' touch on his arm, his friend's hand brushing from his elbow to wrist before Remus laced his fingers lace through Sirius' on Hermione's back and Remus pressed the of his body against his back.

"It's okay, Padfoot," Remus whispered, propping his head up with his free hand as he snuggled in close to Sirius' backside. Jade green eyes lifted from the black hair that hid Sirius' face, to Hermione's. "We got you…We're here, mate. We'll always be here."

Sirius tightened his grip, pulling Remus' fingers further into his and the silent tears picked up once more as he cried. The weight of his soul lifting as years and years of repression lifted. He could barely breathe through the tears, but the combined pressure from Hermione at his front and Remus at his back seemed to ease his ache. He needed the pressure, the reassurance that it was okay to feel this way. That these tears did not make him less than, like he had been taught for so fucking long.

"Shh… We got you. It's okay," Hermione cooed, the fingers of her left hand smoothing Sirius' soft tresses with slow even strokes. Leaning down, she placed a soft kiss on the crown of his head before she snuggled in as close as possible, giving him a tight squeeze as her own eyes closed.

Remus, sensing what Hermione was trying to do, squeezed his arm tighter around Sirius to provide a security blanket for the wizard, who was too lost in the moment to know anything other that the rippling pain of vulnerability. He had known Sirius for going on nine years now, and he had never seen him so lost before. Now, more than ever, Remus knew Sirius needed both of them. Remus was his friend, his confidant and his past. But Hermione was his future. She was his heart, and the fire in soul. At first it pained him to know this, but now...now it seemed natural. Her presence had become another part of his life, like she had always been there in the shadows.

Remus let his own head drop to the pillows as he tucked his face against the back of his neck. He felt Sirius' wracking sobs give way to heavy steady breath as the wizard cried himself to sleep in their protective hold. His hand that had held up his head slid across the rough cotton pillowcase until it reached Hermione's chestnut curls and slowly, cautiously almost, he moved to stroke against her head in a silent thank you for providing something he had tried for so long to his best friend. "We got you." Remus murmured, except this time it wasn't directed to the sleeping wizard that lay between him and the witch. He needed her to know that this was not something she needed to carry alone. They had told her once before that this was their shared burden, but it seemed a reminder was needed.

Hermione's eyes shut tight at Remus' soft words; she dared not utter anything in return. Instead she nodded, her head moving ever so slightly against the pillow and his hand and she gulped down the lump that had grown in her throat since he had joined them. And as it settled in her belly, she let Sirius' deep and steady breathing pull her down with him, knowing that she would have to come clean to them both about all of the casualties of the first war sooner than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know...I know.. I'm late. Sorry!! Hopefully you can forgive me with this post! I was working on a fest-piece that was due this week and focused all my efforts on it. I promise not to leave you guys waiting for too long for the next chapter. To give credit where credit is due, I adapted a line from a beautiful poem by Nakita Gill. - "You are damaged and broken and unhinged. But so are shooting stars and comets.” I read it and knew immediately that that was perfect for Sirius.
> 
> Happy Halloween to all my lovely readers! Drop me a review and let me know what you think. <3


	42. Coming Clean

**November 8th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 09:28**

The soft jingle of loose Knuts and Sickles tinkled like a poor man's melody for Sirius' anxiety. It had been two days since he found out the foolish task that his brother had signed up for in secret and each day felt worse than the last. Sirius had let his emotions free; he let the trauma from his past surface and for the first time he let himself be completely taken care of. Remus and Hermione both had taken turns showering him with love and devotion in their own ways. Remus cooked them meals, curled up in bed with the wizard and he would read to him while Hermione took showers or quickly scarfed down her meal waiting for her on the counter in the kitchen. Hermione would stroke his hair and back, and pepper his cheeks and brow with sweet kisses that put piercing jolts of adoration straight into his weakly beating heart.

He wasn't worthy of their love, and the part of him that wanted to give into the pull of their devotion make him sick to his stomach. Couldn't they see what he did to Regulus? He did abandon him, and it was his fucking fault he ended up mixed up the Voldemort. It was his bloody fault. It wasn't Hermione's, and truthfully, if he had known earlier what Regulus was up to he might have killed himself pulling him from the mess. She was right to wait, he knew this, but he couldn't find the right words to tell her this, so instead he took her kisses, her pets and her hugs and used them as dittany to try and knit himself back together into one solid piece, so he might be better for her once they made it through this fucking mess.

He had been so strong up until now. The war had yet to personally affect him, and perhaps that's why he was able to ignore the horrors and help her fight. But here he was now, moments away from pleading with his brother to not do that he had planned. Moments away from praying to every old god he could think of that Regulus might be able to see reason through madness and get the fuck out of Grimmauld Place and leave his mother and father's rule.

What Sirius was not expecting though, was the further heartbreak that was going to come because Hermione knew that she needed Regulus' testimony of Peter's loyalties to convince Remus and him that Peter was truly gone. If she came out and said 'Peter's a fucking traitor and killed Lily and James in the future' she knew she wouldn't get anywhere but thrown out on her ass in the snow by a pissed off werewolf who had the wool pulled so far over his eyes he was a god damn Christmas sweater.

"Sirius, stop that. You're making me nervous," she teased as she reached out and stole his right hand, pulling it into her lap between two of her own and she smiled at him softly, trying to push away the what-if's of what was about to come and focus on the now. Sirius needed her support, at least for the time being, and she was going to give it to him.

"Sorry. I just...I should have gone out for a run last night. I can't...can't sit still," Sirius explained, returning the soft squeeze. Her touch seemed to calm him, even if just the slightest. His legs stopped bouncing and he let out a heavy breath.

"I think I might have a calming draught in my bag if you want," Hermione offered, glancing over her shoulder to see if she could spot her canvas messenger bag.

Sirius' nose wrinkled. "No...those make me sleepy. I'll be fine," he insisted. "Once he gets here I'll be fine….what time did he say he was going to Apparate?"

Looking back to the wizard who was now looking at their interlocked hands, Hermione lifted her hand to carefully tuck his shaggy black hair behind his ear. He had grown it out to the point where it was barely hitting his shoulders now. Glimpses of the old Sirius, the one she knew in her first timeline, peaked through if she caught him in just the right light and make her heart skip a beat with familiarity. "He said he would be there a little before nine thirty… after your Mum-"

"Walburga," Sirius corrected quickly, gray eyes flashing up to Hermione instantly and he shook his head. That woman would never be called his mother. Egg donor, at best.

"After Walburga goes to run some errands," she finished. "Remus and he should be here any minute."

When Regulus sent her an owl letting her know he was coming, he had implied wanting her to be the one to meet him at the Apparition point, but Hermione did not need the Sight to know that was a poor idea. The last thing she needed was for Regulus to pepper her with questions on the snowy walk back to the flat. Beyond that, if he made a move on her, like he had in Grimmauld Place, she wasn't certain she would be able to contain Sirius from spiraling further into himself. No, she needed this to go as smoothly as possible because she knew it was not going to be an easy pill to swallow.

It was then that the sound of the front door unlocking pulled their heads to entrance to the floor. A gust of wind carried in flurries of snow as it swung open and Remus was the first to enter. A thick burnt-orange scarf had been wrapped around his neck, covering his lips and nose from the biting frost, and he reached up with a mismatched mitten to tug it down below his chin. "Next time, you're fetching him," Remus grumbled as he yanked off his mittens and tossed them on the dining room table across the room.

"The feeling is mutual, Wolf boy," Regulus added as he crossed into the flat. He looked around the living room slowly, cold silver eyes taking in the eclectic decor that Sirius and Remus had both slowly been adding to their home. His lips thinned in a small sneer. He wore a set of black velvet traveling robes that held small specks of white snow on the end and the shoulders. Beneath was an immaculate outfit: fitted butterscotch yellow trousers, a jade button down and a slate gray vest. If Hermione thought Sirius was eccentric, it was clear he held no candle to his younger brother. Reaching up his lean fingers made quick work of the clasp at his throat and he deposited his robes in Remus' unawaiting arms and his eyes turned to Hermione and his brother, purposefully holding her gaze. "I would have much preferred the company of a pretty witch over yours any day."

The skin around Remus' eyes was pulled so tight that Hermione was almost certain they were going to pop out as he clearly debated strangling the younger Black heir with the cloak that was now grasped tightly in his hands. "Remus! Can you go make up a pot of tea?" Hermione questioned quickly, forcing the menacing werewolf to look at her. His eyes swirled, a mixture of yellow and green like one of the glass marbles she used to have as a small girl, beautiful but deadly.

"Sure." Remus ground out the word like it was bitter, swirling eyes pulling away from Regulus, and when the pompous wizard turned his back to him, he tossed his cloak towards the coat rack, not bothering to make sure it hung as he moved briskly in the kitchen.

"Why don't you come in here and have a seat. We can get started once Remus comes back with the tea," Hermione gestured towards an overstuffed armchair that she had transfigured from a pile of towels earlier. She watched hopefully as Regulus moved across the tiny living room, eyeing the chair, as if to make sure it wasn't going to bind him to the spot before he sat down, his hands smoothing over the top of his trousers before he carefully crossed one leg over the other as he settled back. "We're glad you decided to come talk with us instead of going to Crystal Cove...isn't that right, Sirius?" Hermione looked to her silent boyfriend.

Sirius had retrieve a sickle from his pocket and was worrying it between his thumb and his index finger as he watched Regulus apprehensively. It didn't take an Arithmancy Master to note the tension between the brothers. The old Sirius, the same one who would have reached across the table and rattled Regulus' cage for speaking to Hermione like she was nothing more than some arm candy that he could parade around, was beginning to lift back to the surface very slowly. "Thrilled. Although I'm surprised Walburga let you travel this far from home without a lunch and a bottle."

Hermione winced. Merlin, this was going to be quite a long morning, wasn't it?

"Make no mistake, witch. The only reason I am here is so I can figure out how you know about that place," Regulus said plainly, silver eyes narrowing just slightly on her as if he could read the answer across her forehead.

"I understand. We can get to that once Remus returns-" Hermione offered.

"-and maybe partially because I wanted to figure out what you see in my big brother," Regulus tacked on before Hermione could finish her sentence, and his eyes flicked to Sirius, the hint of a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he watched Sirius bristle. It had been a long time since he had gotten under his brother's skin so, he had nearly forgotten how easily he riled up.

"What she sees in me is none of your fucking business, Reg. You weren't invited so you can inquire about my love life." Sirius straightened his spine as his jaw worked from side to side before setting with confidence, daring Regulus to continue his inquisition.

"Clearly…" Regulus voice hung in the air and he leaned forward, his sly grin widening as he scooted to the edge of the chair and planted his elbows on his knees, his fingers steeping as he brought his hands together in front of him. "However, considering both of you found it pertinent to shove your noses into my business and inquire about my plans for handling the Dark Lord, I am just returning the favor."

"You put your nose anywhere near my girlfriend, and I'll break it, little brother." It was Sirius' turn to lean forward, his nostrils flaring as his smokey eyes began to darken on his brother. "Do you understand me?"

"Circe's tit, can you two just have a civil conversation?" Hermione reached up, fingers pressing against her forehead above her eyebrow as she let out a heavy sigh.

"I see you've taught her your colorful tongue, Sir'." Regulus leaned back in the chair once more, shaking his head as he lifted one hand to brush the soft fringe of black hair off of his forehead and a soft huff of air was let out with a short laugh. "How utterly charming."

Sirius' body went tense, as if his brother's words were not insults, but rather a body binding curse, and just as he began to stand up so he could reach across the table and beat some sort of respect into his little brother, he felt a hand hit his shoulder, forcing him back down onto the couch with a hard shove.

"My tongue is my own, Regulus," Hermione spat with a little more fire than she likely intended, but it was clear that in order to get any sort of headway with either man, she needed to put her foot down and rather quickly. "Your brother and I are together, despite what your prejudices about him might tell you and you would do well to remember that my loyalty to him will not waver because some pretty man-child smiles at me." She felt both sets of gray eyes on her, wide with shock. Sirius' clearly dancing with amusement while Regulus' glittered with surprise. Lifting her hand from Sirius' shoulder, she reached down to tug at the hem of her shirt, straightening out her clothing as best she could. "Now that is clear, can we fucking move on, because I am sure you do not have the entire morning to spend in this flat. Surely your mother might need your help with whatever Pureblood little boys do once they're out of school."

Sirius, for the first time in two days, let a grin spread across his face. He knew she was smart, and outspoken, but there was just something about Regulus being on the receiving end of her wit that tickled him

Regulus' curved brows were nearly in his hairline, watching the steady determination cross Hermione's face as she spoke to him, but the only thing that made it through his ear to brain filter was the tiniest bit of her rant. "...So...You think I'm pretty?" Regulus questioned, and the trademark Black smile fell into place, his eyes gleaming wickedly. Rationally, he knew that this was a bad idea. For starters, she affiliated with his brother and claimed to be his girlfriend. Secondly, Kreacher had been quick to point out her blood status. She was Muggleborn...but there was something else about her the House Elf couldn't place. Regulus had to lie to the poor creature to get out of the house without raising suspicion. But there was something about her. The fire that flickered in her eyes, her… presence that made him want to know more. Like she was some code he needed to crack. So while yes, his flirtation was mainly to get under his brother's skin, a small teeny tiny part of him may have been eager to learn more about this unfamiliar witch.

Hermione's eyes rolled before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before a long suffering sigh was given. If she had not been certain of it before, she was now: these Black men were going to be the death of her. "Remus," her voice carried into the kitchen and she opened her eyes, shifting on the couch as she crossed her legs over one another. "Please hurry...I cannot deal with them on my own."

The werewolf called, looking up from his busy work toward the living room. "How do you think I felt at school? Try adding Prongs into this cocktail of sarcasm, carefully repressed feelings, and Pureblood propriety. It's like watching fireworks explode."

Sirius snorted, and he slung his arm possessively around Hermione's shoulder, tipping his head back on the couch to look at his friend who was placing the last of whatever he was bringing from the kitchen on a tray. "Is that why you didn't want him to come to this intervention?"

"Precisely." Remus picked up his thin cypress wand and made a slow circle above the tray before flicking his wrist toward the circle. The tray rose slowly off the countertop and Remus directed it in front of himself before he moved toward the seating area of the living room. "On Mabon you ended up exchanging blows, and last time I got attacked by your childhood pet-"

"Kreacher," Regulus corrected quickly, eyes shooting daggers to the werewolf. "And he is not a _pet_. He is a member of our house."

"Well whatever the fuck he is, he damn near cut off my ear with a butcher knife." Remus lifted his free hand to gesture to his right ear before pointing his wand to the coffee table. Muttering the disenchantment the red tray settled on the soft wooden surface. He had made two pots of tea, one in the plain pale blue pot that he had favored lately, the other in a white pot with an orange floral print that he had designated as Hermione's about a month prior. Between them were four mugs, none of which matched, a sugar dish, a small carton of creamer and some butter biscuits that he found in the back of the cupboard. The date on the package indicated they were a bit old, but he had refreshed them to a more palatable form with a handy charm Lily had taught him when Sirius and he first moved into the flat. It was far from extravagant, but the idea was they were supposed to be making an attempt to appease Reg', despite what Sirius and Remus both thought.

" _Accio Chair._ " Remus pointed his wand across the room and one of the wooden chairs that was tucked under the dining room table skidded across the floor into the living room, making soft noises in protest as its legs caught in the fibers of the carpet. His palm wrapped around the top once it reached him and he spun it before sitting down at the table, carefully crossing his legs over one another.

Regulus watched Remus warily before glancing to Hermione with an curved brow raised. "So this _intervention_ is going to be a group thing? Any other members of this house that need to be included? Because I can almost assure you that with the present company included, you are not earning my favor."

"That was his word, not mine," Hermione quickly explained before she leaned forward and picked up the white floral pot from the tray, carefully pouring herself a mug of the Earl Gray in a chipped Falmouth Falcon's mug that had seen much better days. "And yes. I suppose you could call it that. We… all have things to be discussed, and it seemed logical to make the most of your company."

Regulus only gave a small grunt in response before he withdrew the antique gold pocket watch from his vest and opened the case. It was an heirloom, one that his father had intended on giving to Sirius before he left. Inside were two clocks overlayed together. The outmost watch told them time, while the inside watch gave the location of family members. His mother and father both showed in the 'OUT' category, while Sirius, who he had not the heart to remove when it was given to him, sat underneath 'HOME'. Kreacher, an addition he added despite his father's disapproval, sat under 'HOME' as well. Snapping the watch closed with a quick twitch of his fingers, he shoved it back into the vest pocket before his long arms crossed over his chest.

"If my memory serves me well, you used to love doing things in groups, didn't you?" Sirius wagged his eyebrows at his brother as he leaned forward to snag a biscuit and he carefully popped off a corner before popping it in his mouth. When Regulus only replied with a quizzical narrowing of his eyes, Sirius responded with an impish grin. "Quidditch, studying, roaming the dungeons and corridors with that pack of snakes you called friends…" he began to rattle off, counting each item lifted off with the corresponding finger. "Oh...and of course, we can't forget witches."

Regulus instantly bristled, his eyes widening slightly, and he glanced at Hermione who was still busying herself with preparing her mug of tea and he looked back to Sirius. "That was _one_ time!" he hissed across the table. "Besides...it wasn't just one witch."

"No, and it wasn't just one wizard with her, either, was it?" Sirius returned before lifting the biscuit to take a small snap of a bite from it, the crumble falling on his gray cotton shirt.

"That must have been one hell of a time from what we could tell," Remus offered from the corner, his hands smoothing on the pants of his trousers. "You lot left the Astronomy tower in shambles."

Regulus lifted a hand, fingertips rubbing against his brow as a deep crimson blush spilled over his cheeks. He was young-well, younger than now! And they had pilfered Firewhiskey from the Hufflepuffs to enjoy their most recent Quidditch victory against Ravenclaw. A celebration was in order, and it wasn't like they pressed Alecto, Sophronora, or Madeleine. No, they were all too eager to help him and his friends celebrate. Of course, this was months before taking the mark, because as soon as the brand hit the pale skin on his arm, all extracurricular activities suddenly seemed foolish. Why would the Quidditch Cup matter when there were much more pressing things to deal with?

"As… interested as I am in hearing that story," Hermione began, glancing up from her prepared mug towards the blushing Regulus before she looked at Sirius out of the corner of her eyes. "I think we should probably focus on why we asked your brother here. Maybe we can just… agree to stay on topic?" When each wizard mumbled a reluctant reply in agreement, she nodded and picked up a green mug that bore the logo from the local cafe. She eyed the faded logo with a small smirk, knowing that Sirius had likely swiped it during one of their early morning breakfasts. Her thumb ran across the image before she set it down in front of Regulus and she filled it with some of the tea from her specifically brewed pot.

"So I suppose I can let you ask any questions you might have first." Hermione carefully set the floral pot back on the tray before folding her hands in her lap to try and conceal the nervousness she felt.

Regulus did not move for a moment, instead he sat, silver eyes narrowing just slightly on Hermione as he tried to read past her cool exterior. His questions first? Was she giving him the upper hand by letting him strike first, or perhaps she was planning her strike while he was distracted? Years of carefully maneuvering the jacob's ladder of Voldemort's inner circle left him cautious, but… she had shown him no reason to not trust her. Yet.

"How did you know about what… what he did to Kreacher?"

"Because Kreacher told me." Hermione chose her words carefully, because technically it was not a lie. She could remember it vividly. Sitting outside of his cupboard in Grimmauld Place, Harry pinning the decrepit House Elf down so he couldn't beat himself with a poker while he reluctantly told them the story. She remembered feeling her stomach twist in agony at the time; she knew Voldemort was evil, but to force a House Elf to… drink the potion in the basin. Voldemort had intended to leave Kreacher there to die, but the ancient magic brought him back.

"You're lying," Regulus' accusatory voice cut through her memory like a sharp knife and he shook his head. "You've never met Kreacher before. I had not set eyes on you until Mabon. There is no bloody way he could have told you."

"And I had not laid eyes on you until Mabon either," Hermione agreed. "Except in photographs of course. But the fact still remains Kreacher told me himself."

"I did not come out here to be lied to," Regulus bristled, pushing himself up from the chair quickly. "So if this is how we will be handling this meeting, I think I will take my chances in Crystal Cove."

"Oh sit down, you little shit. She's not lying," Remus snapped. Holding the warm cup between his frostbitten fingers, jade green eyes cut daggers at Regulus over the steaming rim. "Hermione, just fucking tell him."

"He won't believe her anyway." Sirius commented, "We'd be better off binding him to that chair until we take care of the locket ourselves."

"Tell me what?" Regulus frown deepened as he looked to his brother and the werewolf expectantly.

"We're not binding anyone to anything, so stop suggesting that," Hermione told her boyfriend quickly before looking up to the younger Black brother who appeared ready to flee from their flat. "I've met Kreacher before because… I'm not from here."

Not from here? Regulus did not earn top marks in school, but he wasn't a complete moron. Her accent was clearly from England, but beyond that she spoke with the same cadence they all did after spending all those months up in the drafty castle in the Highlands. It appeared she was friendly with Remus, who had a knack for not trusting outsiders, even while at Hogwarts. Just as he opened his mouth to call her to the carpet on her obvious deceit Remus cut off his words.

"She's got a bloody Time-Turner. She's from...the future," the werewolf said sharply, and when Hermione turned to look at him with wide eyes he simply shrugged. "What? You need to just fucking tell him. Stop dancing around it."

"A Time-Turner?" Regulus had only heard of them, and although his knowledge on the topic of time magic was very limited, the concept was really not that hard to grasp. At least in theory. "How do...How do I know that's true?"

"Well, I told you about Kreacher," Hermione reasoned. "But I mean… you don't have to believe me. You just have to agree not to go take the locket from Crystal Cove, because if you do...you won't come back."

"Is that some sort of threat?"

"No, it's a fact. I've seen it play out in two timelines now...you don't make it back from that cove," Hermione replied as apathetically as possible. This was not a time for her emotions to mix in with the most pressing issues at hand. If Regulus went to try and retrieve it alone, she had no doubt in her mind his fate would be the same as it had been twice over: with him at the bottom of the water with Inferi. "But I think you already know that…and you've planned accordingly."

Regulus set his jaw, his heart thumping a nervous rhythm as he eyed the witch skeptically. There was no way...How could… No. Shaking his head, he reaching up to push the thick black fringe from his forehead. "You can't possibly believe her, Sir'."

"I was skeptical at first, yes. But I've seen it… take her back?" Sirius turned, looking at Hermione to discern if that was the right descriptor before he stood and moved cautiously towards his brother. "Reg… I know we haven't always gotten along… and that our ideals might be different but… I would never lie to you. I never have before and I don't plan on starting now. What she is saying is true. She's seen what happens if Vold-"

"Don't!" Regulus flinched instantly, fingers flexing to prevent him from slapping a hand over his brother's mouth. "Don't say his name."

"If _he_ does not get stopped. From what Hermione's said it does not end here. Not anytime soon at least."

Hermione nodded in agreement, her teeth beginning to worry the corner of her bottom lip as she watched the two brothers.

There was a conviction in his brother's eyes that frightened Regulus more than he would care to admit. He was speaking the truth of course; Sirius was many things, but a liar was not one. Even in their childhood he had gotten his mouth hexed shut on several occasions for speaking up against Mother and Father's ideals. Regulus had begged Sirius to just tell them what they wanted to hear, to just make them think he felt that way, but Sirius was stubborn and would never relent. "How long…how long does it continue?"

"Until 1998… Not consecutively. He disappears for a while and comes back," Hermione explained, her voice soft, as if speaking the words in a better tone might dampen the blow.

Regulus cursed softly under his breath, his eyes dropping to the floor as he let what they had just told him process. If she was telling the truth, and this was a big if, it meant his reign of terror would be fifty-six years in the making. His stomach churned as he thought that some of the people who he had watched die at the hands of the Dark Lord had not even been a fraction of that age. Regulus took a step back until the back of his knees touched the soft of the chair once more and he lowered himself into the chair, perching on the edge as his hands rose to rub against his face, fingertips pressing into his eyes until he saw white burst behind them. "Tell me… everything."

Hermione spent the next forty minutes trying her best to explain years and years of how she had been connected to Voldemort and the role she played during his final destruction in 1998. Of course, this only lead into questions about that fateful night less than a year in the future, one she had carefully avoided the topic of until this moment. She knew she would need Regulus backing up her claim, and if her gut instinct was right, which it had been ninety percent of the time, the odds were he was all too familiar with the rogue marauder.

"How did he find them? You said they went into hiding and had a Secret Keeper. He is a powerful wizard, but that ancient magic is not something that even he could break," Regulus questioned before swallowing down the last of the Fire Whiskey from his mug. Sirius had taken a bottle from their stash when Hermione had first started on her retelling of her childhood experiences.

"Their Secret Keeper was compromised." She let her eyes fall to her hands, which were curled around her own mug of Whiskey, watching the amber liquid ripple with waves as she moved. "His allegiance had been sworn to… You-Know-Who."

"Who was it? Who told?!" Sirius demanded from across the room. He was standing against the wall, fingers curled tightly around the bottle of whiskey. There was no anger in his expression; his face was void of any emotion that might make her hesitate to give up the answer. It was his eyes that blazed bright, all steely determination and torrid resolution. He had heard the story before, but he had never heard this part. She had made sure to carefully exclude the traitor that was in their midst and Sirius was going to be damned if this… this rat got away with it! They needed to be stopped before it happened.

Hermione gulped, a lump forming in her throat that turned her voice to gravel and rooted her to the couch. "Sirius.. I...I think you probably should sit down..."

Remus, who was curled up opposite of Hermione on the couch in the gray cardigan, furrowed his brow. His hand was over his mouth, fingers rubbing the soft cotton of the sweater across his lips to provide some sort of calming effect his mate's scent had on him. "Who the bloody fuck is it, Hermione?"

Shit...shit shit shit. Reaching out she set the mug down quickly, the liquid sloshing over the rim and splattering across the table. Standing up she moved quickly to stand behind the couch, putting distance between her and the two men she knew this news would hurt the most. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric, nails scratching at it slightly as she looked between Sirius and Remus. "...Please don't do anything rash… I've been watching him… making sure he didn't do anything. I swear to you I was just trying to find a way to save him from this fate.."

Him? Sirius and Remus looked at each other instantly, and Hermione's heart fractured with small cracks. Even now they couldn't see it. Back then they had each blamed each other. Sirius had been the Potter's Secret Keeper, but…. He had grown to distrust Remus. His ex...his best friend because the war had begun to corrupt even the purest of hearts. "I-It wasn't either of you," she told them both quickly, tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

"Frank?" Remus questioned, craning his neck to look at the witch.

"No… He faced no danger that night. But he and Alice got attacked a week later. They lived, but… barely," Hermione explained.

"Then who?" Sirius pressed, and when she made no immediate jump to answer he pushed off the wall to begin towards her. "Benjy? Dung? Gid? Who fucking told, Hermione!?"

"Peter!" Her voice sounded shrill as his name tumbled from between her lips and the impact of how heavy it felt in her mouth seemed physical in that moment, for Sirius stopped advancing towards her as the words hit him. The bottle half filled with liquor slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor with a heavy thud and the soft sound of it escaping from the neck and gushing into the carpet could barely be heard over her next words. "It was Peter. He was their Secret Keeper. He told Voldemort."

Regulus did not bother to try and correct her use of the evil wizard's name this time, because his attention was stuck between Sirius and Remus. Both of whom looked like they had just been kissed by Dementors with the delivery of the news that someone who had been their closest ally growing up was no longer that. Peter had been working for The Dark Lord for many months now, how had they not known? He had seen Peter on several occasions during their gatherings, coming to the beck and call of his master like some lost little puppy.

"No...No fucking way. Wormy would never do that!" Remus was the first to speak, his nostrils flaring with disbelief as he shook his head so violently his soft sandy blonde hair was askew. "I don't believe it!"

"No… she's right. He is working with us-them? He's working for You-Know-Who." Regulus withdrew his thin Hawthorn wand from the inside pocket of his vest and he cast a quick cleaning charm at the spill pooling around Sirius' immobile feet. "I … I didn't know you guys still spoke with him. He made it seem like you have not been friends since graduation."

Sirius felt like something in the room was stealing all his oxygen and he wasn't getting enough to form coherent thought. His ears rang, and his eyes began to tunnel, the edges of his vision blurring with the weight of the news Hermione had just spoken and his brother confirmed. Wormtail...His friend since eleven... The same boy who would cry during thunderstorms, and would crawl into bed with Prongs to help fight the invisible monsters, was working with, or was it for, Voldemort? Worse, in two separate timelines he betrayed his trust. He sold out James, and Lily and their fucking baby! His stomach coiled tight with tension, the taste of bile already building in his up, his fingers wove into his black hair, pulling it back from his face as he took a deep rasping breath, trying to calm down the rising urge to vomit.

Sirius' mind raced as he tried to calm the rising tide of confusion and anger he felt swirling inside him. It was physically painful to think about Peter's betrayal. This was it, wasn't it? There couldn't be any more bad news. This had to be what she was protecting him from. Even the blow about hearing about his own demise did not strike this bad; Like hot irons straight to his heart. James, Peter, and Remus were more than just friends, they were family. Which meant Peter was not just selling out a friend. He was turning on his own family, however makeshift they were.

When his eyes focused once more and the ringing in his ears subsided, he looked to see Remus with his head in his hands as he leaned against Hermione, who had moved to hold the werewolf as he too processed the gut-wrenching betrayal. Sirius knew for Remus it was worse. Peter was working with people who had tortured him. Who had tied him up like some dangerous beast, tossed rotten flesh and howled with laughter as his painful transformation. Peter was working with people who had not only delighted in his pain, but thought him less than because he was inflicted with lycanthropy. His betray of James and Lily in the future timelines was not lost on him, but Peter's betrayal to himself was worse, at least in this moment.

"Remus. I-I..." Was there anything she could say that would make this pain better? Hermione tried to put herself in his position. If she had been told Ron had sided with Voldemort after their years together in school, she would feel gutted. Empty. Like someone had stolen a piece of her heart straight from beneath her ribs and left a gaping wound. No. There was nothing she could say that would ease his or Sirius's pain, but she had to try. She had to say something, because saying nothing felt worse." …I'm sorry," Hermione whispered as she stroked the sandy blonde hair on the back of his head, her other hand giving calming strokes up and down his arm, trying to help calm him the best she could.

Regulus perched next to the pair on the coffee table beside Hermione, but his eyes were on his brother. Sirius could see how he wanted to stand up and comfort his brother, something they had not done for each other since small children, but he held back. Hesitant to give too much too fast, for they both held scars deeper than surface level.

Sirius moved slowly back to the couch, a steely resolve setting in his eyes with each step he took closer to the trio. The memories of the past year, and how distant… and withdrawn Peter had been seemed to flash through his mind like a Pensieve on fast forward. The signs were right fucking there, but none of them acted on them. His questions during Order meetings seemed so oddly specific, and he would never agree to patrol unless it was solo. How could he have been so blind? Sirius slipped his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and withdrew a small crumpled pack of cigarettes. Remus had enforced a strict no smoking in the flat policy from the moment they took possession of the flat, but Sirius really didn't feel like sitting in the cold right now. He would deal with the hell he would get from him later.

Hermione looked up to her boyfriend, watching as he brought the pack to his lips once a single cigarette was lifted and he withdrew it before lighting. Her nose twitched as the nicotine smoke puffed in the air next to him but she made no move to stop him, nor scold him for smoking like she usually did. Instead she offered him a sympathetic expression, chocolate brown eyes softening on the wizard she had been trying so desperately to protect.

Remus turned his head against Hermione's shoulder, not quite ready to give up the affection he was receiving. Sirius had never been one to express physical affection beyond shagging, foreplay and well... snogging. He had been with wizards since his friend, but never allowed himself to cross this boundary, and although he would never admit it out loud, it felt nice to be comforted, even if it was by Hermione. She had grown on him, even if he would never tell her so.

When Regulus reached out to grab the pack of smokes from Sirius, Remus used the opportunity to grab his friend's hand, fingers weaving through the wizard's, and his jade green eyes blinked back unshed tears. The question he gave Sirius was silent, but it was written plainly across his face. Where do they go from here? Do they tell James and Lily? How do they deal with Peter and Voldemort?

Sirius brought his free hand up, pulling the cigarette away from his lips as he exhaled the faded white smoke from his lungs with a heavy sigh. "The next time we see Wormy I'm going to make sure he knows we know… He won't get to pretend any longer."

Hermione knew this was not a threat, but a promise. There was no chance of dissuading him from acting, so the only thing she could do was make sure he did not hurt himself in the process.

Regulus let out a small snort, smoke puffing from his nostrils like some sort of fire-breathing dragon who consumed too much water. "You think there will be a next time? He's moved in with… you know... He acts like he's never coming back." Getting access to Pettigrew would be more difficult now than before, especially since there was no reason for the Dark Lord to send him on missions. They had plans to take care of that would require the servant to stay close to his master.

Sirius flashed his smoke gray eyes to his brother and he gave him a sharp nod. "Yes. He won't get out of this so easily. He's going to answer for his crimes, just as Voldemort will. And you're going to help us make sure of that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Beyond the Book Fanfiction Book's Summer 2018 awards end on 11/11/2018. If you feel so inclined, vote for Right the First Time in their Favorite Time-Turner category.
> 
> ht*tps:*/*docs*.*google*.*com*/*forms/d/e/1F*AIpQLSf9h*-*zaH8s*TTErFV0GU*_R1bCLNU*DW*-*HszRz*cuH*J7Ik*k3lCZbA/view*form  
> (remove all '*')


	43. Inferi

**November 11th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 10:18**

Sirius tipped his face against the scalding water that sprayed from the metal shower head, his eyes closed as the blasts of water beat against his face. It had been three days since the news of Peter's active (and future) betrayal were told and the pain he had felt about losing his friend was replaced with an almost righteous anger. He was not mourning the loss of a man he thought he knew, but rather seething with the desire to put the wizard in his place. Peter knew Lily and Remus better than most, and both of them would have been deemed less than by Voldemort. Hell, each of them had been in the top of their class; Peter witnessed their genius, skill and devotion to their friends for over nine years by this point but still decided to follow the edict of a mad man.

Sirius forced Regulus to make an Unbreakable Vow not to divulge Hermione's secret, something she had not done with either Sirius or Remus, but the youngest Black brother's loyalty still needed to be proven. Remus was quick to jump at the opportunity to administer the ancient magic ritual and once it was complete, Regulus left with the promise of returning in a week's time so he could accompany them to meet with some members of the Order while they came up with a game plan for how they would best explain how they had found out about Regulus' change of heart.

After Regulus's departure from the flat, Sirius and Remus debated about telling James and Lily of their news, but with Hermione acting as a sort of referee to their row, she was quick to point out how divulging such details would likely mean follow-up questions they should not answer would come up. Sirius bit his tongue and accepted the answer reluctantly, but internally debated forgoing their pact and telling Prongs regardless.

The next three days seemed to fly by, with Hermione busy researching and planning what she knew about Crystal Cove and how they could destroy that particular Horcrux. Which left Sirius time to clear his mind in the work shed out back. From dawn until dusk he could find solace tinkering on his motorbike and piecing together the spare he had picked up before Hermione's return in August. Little alone time was afforded between him and his girlfriend, and although no wall was being erected between them, he could not help but feel a growing distance. They had yet to discuss the events of the past week without Remus involved, and had yet to even begin to bridge the gap to physical intimacy beyond lying in bed in each others' arms when night finally called them both to sleep.

The rejection on that fateful night was needed; Sirius had to face the demons he had kept at bay for years now, but it had seemed to deal a blow to his ego he had not been expecting. He loved Hermione, and he knew she loved him as well, but he questioned if he was right for her. He could not help but feel she deserved better, perhaps a wizard who was whole...one who was her age in her original timeline even. His heart was pained to think about how their time was slipping away and the uncertainty of their future was like a single dark cloud on an otherwise clear day: always present, never forgotten.

Sirius reached out to brace himself against the cold tile wall of the shower as he tipped his head down, letting the hot water drag his hair over his face. Adjusting his footing, he set his stance wide, letting his head fall until his stubbled chin rested against his chest and the spray of the hot water hit his neck, working against the knots and kinks that had begun to build since working in the shop. His hearing was muffled by the rushing water, so when the bathroom door popped open he didn't register that he was not alone until he felt the cool blast of air rush against his skin.

His head turned to glance over his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion and his hand went up to smooth his hair back on his head before brushing the excess water from his brow. His vision sharpened to reveal his girlfriend slipping into the shower behind him, her thick curls held up by something she called a pencil, exposing the column of her neck. Her skin puckered as the scalding water bounced off of his skin to ricochet onto her own. "What are you doing, Little bird?" Sirius turned slowly, his brows lifting as he took in her naked form, eyes running across each small blemish and scar, past the large purple curse on her side and down the length of her shapely legs, watching the water cascade down her body and pool around her painted toes.

"Well… I figured you'd be in here a while and I thought we could save a few sickles on the water bill if we showered together," Hermione teased, the hint of a smile pulling at her lips as she felt her skin flush at his appraisal of her figure. Her arms instinctively went to her stomach, trying to cover up the purple disfigurement as best she could without being overly obvious. Being forward was not in her nature, not sexually at least. But she had to try. Glimpses of the 'old Sirius' kept flickering through his despair and she knew that if she did not act soon this darkness might consume him. With this in mind, she cast a silencing charm on the door frame to Remus' room and the bathroom before she had entered, with one goal in mind: seduce her boyfriend.

Sirius let out a small breath in amusement and his eyes found hers once more as the smallest hint of a smirk tugged on one corner of his lips. "How practical of you." Sirius extended his hand towards her, and when she took it, he pulled her close. The motion was slow, giving her time to pull back if needed until her toes brushed against his, their bodies separated by mere centimeters.

Hermione felt her breath hitch as she moved close. Her hands found his chest, thumbs brushing against the soft black hair that lined his lean muscles of his pecs and occasionally dipping against the small scar. "I try," she returned, biting her bottom lip before she glanced down to the small space between their bodies, and in one bold gesture, she closed the gap. Her abdomen brushed against his, her hips framing his manhood which began to stir to life between them. Her eyes fluttered closed as the imprint memory he held on her skin washed over her like the water from the shower blasting on them. Their bodies seemed to slip together like puzzle pieces, made for one another in some cosmic way that seemed almost too good to be true.

Despite the scalding water, a shiver ran up her spine when one of his hands slipped around her body, his fingertips brushing across her lower back, dipping down just slightly onto the curve of her ass. When his other hand rose, his fingertips brushing up the length of her arm and across her shoulders, her head lifted so she could look at his face once more. She watched as a familiar desire darkened the gray into a smoldering ember, and his pupils began to dilate.

Sirius watched her skin pebble beneath his touch, his eyes glued to watch his hand travel over her dampening skin as the shower sprayed both of their naked bodies. He was not ready to meet her gaze just yet. He wanted to watch her body react to his touch. He needed to make sure she was still his, despite denying him earlier this week. His heart thumped so strongly beneath his chest he was sure she could feel the steady beat against her palm. His index and middle fingers traced across her collarbone, fingertips swirling across a small scar against her peaches and cream skin until he met the junction of her neck. His bottom lip was bitten when he felt her pulse as he danced his fingers up until he could bury his hand in the side of her curls, knocking the pencil free from its hold on her curls in the process. "Hermione...are you sure?"

His voice was husky, but held an uncertainty that made her heart sputter. Was she sure? Of course she was! She loved him, more than anything. She needed him to know that. Her kisses and the way she held him through the night was not just because she felt obligated. He had to know that, but perhaps the self loathing he had felt caused him to doubt what was so clearly obvious between them. Instead of responding verbally, she leaned up on the tips of her toes and her right hand moved up to grab the back of his neck and she brought his mouth down to meet hers in a quick, passionate kiss.

Sirius was usually in control, and she would bend to his every desire, but this surge of wanting to prove her devotion for him gave her a confidence she had only displayed a small handful of times before. Her tongue swept into his mouth, parting his lips as she carefully maneuvered their bodies until he was pressed flat against the cold tile wall of the shower.

Upon first contact with the wall, Sirius arched his spine as the cold cut through to his core in surprise. His fingertips pressed into her skin, pulling her so their bodies stayed as close as possible while she moved him. He stayed paralyzed under her spell for a moment, his tongue slowly coming to life to brush against hers and it hit him suddenly, like a light switch flipping, and the rush of adrenaline this witch brought him surged through his veins.

His fingers curled against her scalp almost painfully as he deepened the kiss to respond to her growing fever, and his hand on her lower back dropped to knead her ass, alternating between each cheek as he pressed his hips against her abdomen.

As his tongue swept across her mouth, leaving no spot untouched in his renewed vigor, it make her realise how much she missed his kiss, how much she wanted to taste the smokey flavor that clung to his tongue, and how his scent only amplified when they lost themselves in moments like this. It had only been two weeks since they had last been intimate, which technically speaking was not long. But this longing was not something either could ignore for any longer. Sirius' love language was clearly physical touch and she was beginning to rethink her own. She did not know how much she needed oblivion with him until this kiss.

Sirius' mouth broke from hers as he tugged her head to the side sharply, causing the little gasp in pain-pleasure to tumble from her lips and make his cock twitch against her belly in response. Leaning down, his mouth found the side of her neck and he nipped and licked across the tender flesh, causing her to make those delicious little noises in response that awoke a consuming hunger in his soul.

He moved her with a confident ease against the shower wall, her back arching off the cold tiles causing her breasts to flatten against his chest. This was it, this was what he had been missing. This consuming, heady desire, the way she managed to invade his mind, leaving no part of it untouched. This was how Sirius healed himself normally, and while it was needed for him to deal with his emotions instead of fucking them away, this was still needed for him to return to his old self.

His hands were unforgiving as he ran them down her body, forging a path that could not be stopped. His palms slid across her wet sides, fingers curling over her hips until he reached her thighs and in one swift motion he lifted her from her feet and parted her thighs so he could slip between them and pin her to the cold wall.

His name tumbled from her lips when she felt his cock brush against her folds, starting up a tender ache at the apex of her parted thighs. Her hips rocked forward, trying to force him into her frame as her hands moved up to his cheeks and held him in place so her mouth could find his once more in a breath-stealing kiss.

Using this position to his advantage, Sirius slipped his hands from their hold on her thighs to slip under her legs and rest her against the shower wall, spreading her thighs as wide as they might reach and exposing her pussy to the steamy air of the small bathroom. His footing was found, making sure he would not slip in the slick pooling at his feet and his teeth nipped at her bottom lip as he pulled his mouth from hers. "Help me." His voice was gravelly, almost unrecognisable in the heat of the moment as he thrust his hips forward to indicate where her assistance was needed.

Hermione nodded, half-lidded eyes dropping between their bodies, and her hand moved from his cheek down between them until her fingertips brushed across the head of his cock. Her fingers ran his length, feeling the thick veins bulge against her touch as she stroked him, relishing the velvety softness of his manhood for just a moment before a soft growl of her name pulled her from her silent reverie.

Her pussy felt swollen, and eager. Ready for what was to come. Carefully she lined him up against her core and in one strong thrust, Sirius sheathed himself inside her with a growl. His noises were primal and needy, causing her heart to thump a triumphant rhythm that she had managed to make the old Sirius resurface. The Sirius she had fallen in love with. But before she could spend any time celebrating her victory, he moved in her body in a fierce rhythm, his hips crashing against her own, causing the skin on his abdomen to slap against her pussy with each thrust. Her clit ached with each thrust, causing her tones to curl as she grabbed his shoulders to help her ride through the passion he put in each thrust into her body.

She felt whole, complete with him inside her, like all was right in their fucked up world and there was no Voldemort, or Time-Turners. Like she was just some normal witch, and he was unbroken. And although she could not be certain, she reasoned he might feel the same.

Sirius lifted one of his hands from the wall to her cheek, his thumb resting on her chin and his fingertips danced in her wet curls as he held her still. He could feel her leg wind around his waist, the heel of her foot digging against his arse, encouraging him to drive her closer toward bliss. "I-I love you," he rasped, his lips brushing across hers as he adjusted his stance to drive into her with short shallow thrusts, causing her to gasp and moan in his hold.

She was close, she could feel her body begin to coil like a spring, taut with a trembling need and each snap of his hips brought her closer. Her hand moved up, sliding through the wet mane of black hair to hold it back as their foreheads met. "I love you too," she gasped back. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her body begin to vibrate with the impending wave of nirvana. She was on the precipice, just needing that final push to bring her over the edge. His mouth found hers once more, his tongue sliding against her own and the mixture of it all seemed to finally be too much to bear. The icy cold tiles, the scalding hot water, the pressure from his body, the way her hips ached from being spread wide, her core stretching to accommodate his cock, and that kiss. She was over that ledge, tumbling fast into the waves of a intense orgasm that was long overdue.

White hot color exploded behind her eyelids as she crashed into the waves, letting them consume her soul. Her brain was firing on the most primal of levels, causing her hips to rock against his own, trying to seat herself further down on his manhood so more of him could slip inside her. There was no room to think of anything but this exact moment and how much she loved him.

His name was swallowed up as she keened, her nails scratching lightly against his skin and as her pussy began to spasm around his cock, Sirius quickly followed her lead and found his own release. He buried himself in her petite frame, sheathing his cock to the hilt in her trembling body as he spilled his seed deeply inside her. The fingers holding her jaw flexed and he finally released her from the bruising kiss, his head dropping to her shoulder as he took deep, erratic breaths to try and stabilize his thumping heart.

Hermione leaned back into the wall, melting against the tiles, and she forced her other leg around his waist, locking her ankles together, not ready for him to vacate her body yet. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the weight of his body pinning her to the cold, the hot shower beating across their skin, his breath washing over her breasts as their chests heaved to regain oxygen once more.

Hermione wasn't sure when, but at some point in the after-effects of what they had just done she had begun to stroke the back of his hair, smoothing the slick, inky black tresses across his shoulders. She felt his hips move away from hers, dislodging his softening cock from her core and she let out an involuntary whimper.

Sirius could not help but chuckle, his head lifting to watch her as he adjusting his grip on her body to her holding her impossibly close still. "You're… Fucking brilliant."

"So I'm told," Hermione returned, white teeth biting her bottom lip as she watched a familiar crooked grin spread across his face and her heart began to soar.

Just when Sirius opened his mouth to call her on her cheeky response, the sound of a fist pounding against the door pulled them from their magnetic pull. Sirius jumped, his head turning toward the sound.

"I'm not a bloody imbecile, you know! When you silence the bloody room I can't hear the shower anymore!" a sleepy, angry werewolf barked on the other side. "Hurry up! I need to take a piss!"

Sirius let out a loud laugh, his nose wrinkling as his head tipped back, and what felt like the weight of the past couple days literally washed from his skin and down, swirling around the drain like the water from the shower head.

**November 13th, 1979 - Crystal Cove - 19:17**

"Don't go near the water!" Hermione's panicked voice echoed around the moonlit cavern, bouncing off the stone walls and the black, still waters of the lake that lay around them. Her eyes were glued to Remus, who was the second to Apparate with Kreacher from their flat to this island. The werewolf had ventured from his landing point down the small island, eyeing the black water skeptically with his wand lowered toward the surface.

Remus' head snapped toward Hermione, jumping with alarm at her shout and he lifted his hands quickly in surrender, shuffling back before the water could reach his boots. "Merlin, alright," he replied before turning his back to the edge of the water he had just faced, and he moved up the small island to where the witch stood. "This place is a bit spooky, isn't it?"

Hermione reached out, thrusting her wand into Remus' chest so he could hold the source of light as she adjusted the thick white bandage on her palm. The center was already beginning to crimson, her knife wound a little deeper than she had intended, and of course the last of her dittany was used on their previous mission. She knew she had forgotten something when going through her mental checklist of supplies, but it would not do good to dwell on her shortfalls if they planned to make if through this in one piece. "Well considering there is a piece of a dark soul in that basin-" her non-injured hand gestured to the basin atop a pedestal in the center of the island they stood on, a soft green light glowing from the bowl. "-and likely hundreds of inferi in the waters around us, I would say yes. Spooky is an appropriate term, I might also consider blood-chilling or fucking horrid. So like I said before I left...stay away from the water."

Remus held both of their wands at chest level, providing the witch the proper light to finish tying her bandage with a proper knot. His eyes rolled in the penetrating darkness at her edict before he pursed his lips together. He knew she was tense going into this one; from waking up until departure he had heard her repeat the same set of warnings multiple times. He fucking understood. The water was bad, but color him curious. He wanted to see the inferi. He had seen a lot of dark and evil things in his short life, but the living undead were something he had yet to encounter. "Got it."

Hermione took her wand back, the tremble in her hand visible as she held the thin vinewood aloft towards the basin, eyeing the object warily as she waited for Sirius and Kreacher to arrive. The spine-deep coldness penetrated her thick layers easily; it felt like she was in the middle of the cavern in only her nightclothes instead of the thick, wool maroon Weasley sweater, a pair of black thermals under her jeans and boots. She had forgone the parka, figuring it might be too difficult to move in and now wished she had not, although she doubted it would have helped warm her bones. This feeling of frost was not induced due to the winter temperatures mixed with the sea breeze that howled through small cracks and holes in the cavern. No, it was induced by the dark enchantments surrounding them.

When the sound of House Elf apparition cracked around the chamber, Hermione watched a pale white figure launch out of the water in response to the magic that sizzled in the air and breach like some sort of whale in the ocean. Except instead of marine life, it was the naked body of a decaying human. Its skin hung loose from its bones, long stringy hair hung to it shoulders in patches, and it held no lips to cover the remaining teeth it still had. It looked like a Halloween decoration in a haunted house, except with the knowledge of it being real instead of some piece of plastic it held a far more menacing appearance. Waters within the lake lapped against the shore in protest before stilling, too quickly to be done without the aid of magic, to return to its glass-like surface.

Kreacher and Sirius landed on the island, the smooth stones crunching under their weight and Sirius withdrew his hand from the House Elf's instantly as he blinked his gray eyes to adjust to sudden darkness of the chamber. The air was cold and salty, so each intake of breath burned his throat and lungs. "This is it?"

Kreacher hovered near behind Sirius' leg, his hands going to twist against his floppy ears as he looked around the island slowly, cautiously, not daring to utter a word that might wake the beasts that were hiding beneath the surface of the glass-like water.

Hermione nodded, eyes dropping to watch the poorly dressed Kreacher tremble like a leaf in a windstorm. His pillowcase provided little warmth, although the shivers could be a result of his memories from this place. He'd live through this once before, and likely never wished to set foot back inside this cove again. If it weren't for Regulus' command, she wasn't sure the House Elf would have listened.

Opening her messenger bag, Hermione withdrew a small notebook and she opened it from the back before ripping out a couple of the back pages before crumbling them into a small ball. Pointing her wand toward the paper, she whispered a soft spell and as if it was heated from the inside out, paper began to smolder into a small flame. Portable water-proof fire. A spell she had mastered her second year and one that had come in handy on more than one occasion by this point in her life. She'd set Snape's robes ablaze once with the very same spell, and used it to warm their campsite during the Horcrux hunt. Bending low, she let the hovering paper slip from her palm and onto the small stones that made up the small island they stood on before she took a step back. She knew telling Kreacher he could use the fire would not go over well, for she was certain he would rather freeze to death than accept her help, but she hoped he might get close to the flame if she made no move to force it on him.

Sirius eyed the small fire, watching the red and white flames lap against the parchment, curling the white pages black as it slowly began to eat through its fuel. "So… you're just going to go up there and take it?" he questioned, glancing over to his girlfriend who had resumed digging in her bag. She had not given them much instruction before 'Water is bad' and 'Don't fucking think about touching the water'.

"Unfortunately it's not that easy," Hermione replied.

"It never is with you," Remus mumbled as he stuffed his free hand into the front pocket of his trousers, curling the frostbitten fingers into his palm to try and warm them up.

Hermione looked up, shooting Remus a sharp look before she glanced into her open bag and when her hand came into contact with the bottles she had stuffed in their earlier she began to withdraw them. "Remus, you're coming with me to the basin… I need to drink the potion that's around the locket." Her voice held an almost clinical tone as she spoke, brown eyes purposefully avoiding her boyfriend's imploring gaze.

Sirius could tell almost instantly that he was not going to like what was about to come. Whenever she took that tone, put up her walls, he knew she was doing something he would object to. A chill ran down his spine, eyes flickering to the four liter-sized bottles of water she had purchased from the Muggle store earlier this week, watching as she set them down on the stones next to the floating fire. "What? What do you mean drink the potion?"

"Better yet, why do you need those when we're surrounded by water?" Remus questioned, his own alarm bells beginning to ring and when she only held out one of the liters for him to take with no response to his question, he hesitated. He glanced at Sirius with wide eyes before his hand was withdrawn from his pocket and he snatched the liter from her.

"Little bird," Sirius' voice was almost gravelly with warning as he watched her unsling her messenger back from around her shoulders and sit on rocks.

"There is a potion that has to be drunk in order for the locket to be reached. I am going to drink it…with Remus' help. You are staying here with Kreacher to make sure none of the Inferi come out of the water. Harry mentioned they only responded to his presence when the water was disturbed, which is why it is very bloody important no one go near the water." Trembling hands reached up to collect her curls and she pulled them to the back of her head before winding a thick black elastic band around them.

"What sort of potion?" Sirius pressed as he stepped forward, his eyes narrowing on the glowing green light in the basin just beyond Hermione. His spine straightened as he tried to peer over the lip to see the color of the liquid inside.

"I don't know. This is my first time here, I've already told you both that." It was not technically a lie. Hermione had not been in this cave before, as it was Harry and Dumbledore who ventured this far last time, and Harry was not exactly a potions master beyond what his marks during sixth year alluded to, but she had a good guess at what surrounded the locket. The liquid was emerald green and the cause of the green phosphorescent glow that illuminated the dark island. Harry had said that after Dumbledore had consumed some of the liquid it he began to quake with fear and beg for drink, like he was dying of thirst-inducing madness.

Her curiosity had been peaked by Harry's retelling of his time in this very cave that she began to research what possible potion was held in that basin, should they come across it during their Horcrux hunt. It took her weeks, but she was finally able to find the answer to what it was in a Potions manuscript from the early 1600's. It was written by Gemelli The Gruesome, a potions master who had a knack for poisons and potions that caused slow, long-suffering death. When she read the Potion Master's notes she immediately knew it matched the description Harry provided. The Drink of Despair, or more simply, The Emerald Potion.

"I have never known you to not research something until your eyes cross, Little bird," Sirius said quickly, his fingers curling a bit tighter around his ironwood wand as his glanced between the glowing basin and his girlfriend. "So, while I am sure you don't know exactly, I bet you have a pretty fucking good idea."

Hermione pursed her lips together and she took a step backward toward the basin, her jaw set with a determination Sirius knew he would be unable to persuade her from. "I believe it's the Drink of Despair."

"Well, I was always shit with potions, but I'm pretty certain that you shouldn't consume anything with the word Despair in its name," Remus piped up.

"Drink of Despair? Are you fucking daft?" Sirius shook his head, glancing down to Kreacher who huddled near the flame twisting his ears to the point where the old graying skin was beginning to turn red and he sighed, reaching out to bat the House Elf's hands away so he might not harm himself further. Regulus was already reluctant to order the House Elf to help him, if they came back with Kreacher missing chunks of skin, he might be on the bad end of a stinging hex. "Isn't there another way?"

"No, there is not," Hermione replied flatly. She had forced down her fear about drinking the potion like a bitter pill; it was stuck in her throat, but she knew she would have to be the one to do it. Physically speaking, Remus and Sirius would be able to stop her from running to the water to quench her thirst. She was not certain if she would be able to stop either of them considering both of them easily outweighed her by a good two stone.

"Did you even try to find another way?" Remus questioned skeptically, his frown deepening.

"Of course I did!" Hermione hissed before rolling her eyes. "I am not exactly keen on the idea, but someone has got to do it. I'm leading this mission, right? I'm making the call that I should drink the bloody potion. Now stop arguing and let's get this over with so we can get the bloody fuck out of here before the Inferi figure out we are not their master and attack us."

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks as Hermione spun on her heel to move in front of the basin, before Remus offered the wizard a small shrug and he moved to follow. His breath left a trail in the air as he moved next to her. "What do I need to do… exactly?"

Hermione's hand rested on either side of the rim, brown eyes fixated on the locket beneath what looked to be about three inches of potion. At first glance the amount did not seem too much, and the illogical part of her brain thought it might not be as bad as Harry had described, but the rational side told her that if this potion was able to take down Albus Dumbledore, a wizard far more powerful than herself, then she stood little chance of making it through this without the effects of the potion consuming her. "There is going to reach a point where I will try to stop drinking this… and I might try to go into the water." She glanced over her shoulder to Remus and for the first time since they had set foot inside this cavern she allowed the smallest hint of fear to penetrate her gaze. "You will need to bind me to prevent me from going… and feed me the rest of the potion. No matter what I say or do. I will need to consume all of it. Only then can the Locket be retrieved from the basin. Can you do that?"

When Hermione made no indication that her words were just some sort of fucked up joke she was playing on him, Remus let out a small curse under his breath. He tucked the liter of water underneath his arm before his hand rose to rub across his face, exacerbated. "So...there's no chance I can talk you out of this, could I? I could drink it… Sirius would offer too if you let him."

Hermione shook her head no, glancing over to Sirius who was pacing in front of the makeshift fire she had created for Kreacher, gray eyes watching their every move. "No. I'm not sure how this would affect your lycanthropy and Sirius… Sirius wouldn't be easy to force through this. I would never be able to make him drink… It needs to be me," she explained as she lifted her wand and began a series of small flicks and twists in the air before a small metal goblet popped from the darkness and she caught it before it hit the ground. "Besides… I've been tortured before… how much worse could this be?"

Before Remus could remind her that he too had felt Dark Magic ripple through his body, Hermione used the goblet to scoop up some of the potion and she brought it to her lips with one fluid motion. Her head tipped back and she closed her eyes tight, treating it like one would if they were taking a shot. She did not want to savor the flavor as it traveled across her tongue. No, the quicker the better. Right? Perhaps if she drank fast enough she could overtake the time needed for it to work into her system.

It burned as it ran down her throat, causing her to cough once it settled. It held an almost peppery taste, something she was not expecting, but worse yet was the way it settled in her gut. Like a large rock, heavy and foreboding. Her eyes watered as her free hand rose from where it had gripped the side of the basin to cover her mouth and she scooped up another gobletful of potion and tipped it back quickly. Small rivulets of the glowing green potion ran from the corners of her mouth and dribbled off her chin, splashing against the smooth stones under her feet as she tried to outpace the effects the Drink of Despair would take.

She had managed to make it through four goblets before the effects overtook her determination. She stumbled forward, the small goblet clattering into the basin as she leaned forward to cling to the pedestal for support. She could hear Remus call her name, but it sounded muffled and far away over the terror that coursed through her veins.

When she felt his hands on her shoulders, Hermione jumped, trying desperately to move away from what felt like a thousand tiny knife cuts against her skin. "D-Don't touch me!" Her voice was almost unrecognizable, an almost childlike tone as she stumbled around the basin to find a way to escape Remus. Part of her knew who he was, and that he was no one to be feared, but it seemed her brain was not firing on all synapses, for the only thing coursing through her brain was 'RUN!'.

Sirius stopped his pacing, gray eyes wide with concern and his fingers around his wand twitched. "Moony, what's going on? She okay?" his voice carried through the empty chamber, echoing around them.

Remus looked over his shoulder to Sirius and he lifted his hand to wave at him. "Yeah. She's fine. Just… stay there! Keep watch," he told the wizard before he looked back at Hermione, cursing softly under his breath. Fuck, couldn't things with this one ever just be easy? "Hermione, stop. It's okay…" Remus spoke in soft tones as he began to approach, jade green eyes brimming with concern. He watched as she stumbled over her own feet that seemed to not be able to find footing as she tried to flee him. Remus reached out, his fingers brushing her hand that still clutched the basin when she screamed again, this time much louder than before.

"What the fuck is going on!?" Sirius moved quickly, closing the distance between himself and the pair. Ironwood was drawn, campfire smoke eyes alight with fear as he approached his girlfriend to watch her crumple in fear at his feet. "Little bird?" he questioned as he lowered himself next to her on the ground. His knees crunched against the icy cold stones and when he reached for her, Hermione began to kick and hit at his outstretched arms to keep him away.

"No! I don't want it!" she spat, her eyes glazed over, her pupils so wide they almost overtook the chocolate brown iris. Sweat beaded at her hairline and had already begun to dampen the small curls that lined her crown. "You can't make me!"

Sirius' heart sputtered and he looked over to Kreacher, who had curled up before the fire and was rocking with his hands over his oversized ears. Fuck, was this was he had been through?! Was this fucking normal?! "W-We're fucking leaving. This is over!" His voice cracked.

"Sirius...we can't." It pained Remus to watch the betrayal flash in Sirius' eyes at his words, but they both knew why they were here. This was bigger than just the three of them. This needed to be done, because if they did not accomplish it now, it meant Voldemort would keep part of his soul intact. It meant that Regulus might be foolish enough to come back on his own and try to battle this demon without backup. They were trying to make things right, and sometimes that meant in the process they would earn a few more scars. "We...We have to finish. She drank most of it already." Remus moved forward, grabbing the fallen goblet that lay in the basin and he scooped it full of the emerald green potion. Through the vibrant color he could almost make out the image of the locket that lay in the bottom. "Hold her."

"W-What?" Sirius shook his head quickly, putting himself between Remus and Hermione. "No fucking way. Moony, she can't finish that shit. Look at her!" His hand shot out to where Hermione had been seconds earlier, but when his head turned to follow the gesture he found an empty space. "What the-"

His voice cut off in his throat as Remus dropped the goblet in the basin with a loud clatter and moved down the side of the small island quickly, causing the slick stones beneath his feet to tumble as he moved after the witch who had begun to make her escape toward the water's edge. She was still on her hands and knees, as if the weight of the world was too much to bear upright and was dangerously close. " _Incarcerous_!" Thick red ropes erupted from the end of his Cypress wand and quickly descended upon the curly hair witched.

Her palms screamed each time she set them on the rocks, shooting electric shock waves of pain radiating over her body. But her determination to get to the water so she might quench her unbearable thirst was most powerful than the effort it took to move. She was only seconds away from being able to gulp mouthfuls of the water. She would throw herself into its glassy surface and allow it to envelope her body like a thick blanket so she could take in as much as possible. As reason was lost, the madness consumed every logical thought that flickered in her brain that would make her question these actions, and just as she was a few feet from her destination, she felt ropes wrap around her wrists before they were forced to her side, causing her to fall face first against the stones. Blood rushed to her mouth, and although the metallic liquid provided some relief for her thirst, it was not nearly as refreshing as she knew water would be. Her eyes closed and she let her head rest against the hard stones, soft pleas for her freedom given as she tried to pull her wrists free so she could move the last couple feet to find her bliss in the form of a drink.

Remus stood atop the small island, watching as Sirius stumbled down the side, skidding to a halt before his boots could hit the water beside Hermione and he carefully cradled her face, watching deep purple bruises already beginning to bloom over her eye and across her forehead from where she took the impact. "She made me promise that I would make her finish, Sirius. So unless you're going to help you need to back the hell up so we can get this over with."

The glass-like surface of the water began to ripple with unrest, causing soft waves to lap against the shore of the island in soft pulses. The Inferi, it seemed, were beginning to realise the commotion on the island was not from their master. The longer this took, the more likely it was they would come to life to defend the locket.

Sirius looked down, watching as Hermione shook her head to try and free herself from Sirius' hold. Cries of pain and pleas for release tumbled off her lips as she struggled for freedom and his heart ached to make this better. This was why she wanted Remus to do this, wasn't it? Because she knew he would never be able to complete this mission with her. He would never allow her to knowingly give herself over to this sort of pain. Sniffling back the beginnings of tears, he dropped his hands to her middle and he carefully hoisted her over his shoulder, wincing as she kicked against his torso as he carried her back to the basin before setting her down so she rested against the pedestal. "What do I need to do?"

Remus knew this was non-negotiable by the stern look over his face. Since laying her down he had refused to look to the witch, who had now begun to spit hate-filled words towards either of them.

"You fucking C-Cowards! Let me go!"

Remus refilled the goblet he had dropped and he knelt down near Hermione. His tongue darted out across his lips, trying to determine the best way to force the liquid into her mouth, for as soon as he had brought the goblet close to her lips, she closed them tight like a small child refusing to eat a vegetable. His mind raced as he watched her turn her head and he glanced to Sirius who watched his normally strong girlfriend deteriorate in front of him. Careful not to spill the potion from the goblet, Remus reached into his pocket and withdrew Hermione's wand she had give him earlier and he thrust it against Sirius' chest. "Open her mouth and hold her still."

Sirius looked down at the wand before up to Remus and his resolve was beginning to fracture more. Force her mouth open? Merlin's saggy Y-fronts, didn't Remus realise what he was asking of him!? The inner turmoil he felt had to have been plainly written across his face, for Remus snapped his name at him once more like it was acid and pressed the Vinewood into his chest further until Sirius took the wand from him. Setting his own wand down on the ground, so the light bounced off the smooth stones they stood upon, Sirius pulled Hermione into his arms so her back was to his chest and carefully he lifted her wand and pressed it against her closed lips. "I'm sorry… I'm fucking sorry," he murmured into her ear as he felt her struggle against him, her legs kicking in protest, boots sliding across the stones for purchase as she thrashed her head from left to right.

Remus grabbed her jaw with his free hand, his short nails biting into the soft skin of her face as he tipped her head back and into Sirius' chest with so much force he was certain she would have fingertip bruises the next day. Jade green eyes watched as her own wand moved passed her lips and was roughly shoved between her teeth, like a bit to a Thestral. Her tongue lay flat beneath the Vinewood, immobile, and as quickly as he could, he poured the emerald liquid into her mouth.

The delivery of the potion was not ideal, but it seemed to get the job done, for she swallowed and coughed down the peppery potion as tears began to roll down her bruised and bloodied cheeks. Her words were muffled, thankfully, but Remus was almost certain he could make our pleas for them to stop. Sirius had turned his head to the right, his own eyes shut and his hands holding her wand in her mouth seemed the tremble.

"They're coming," Kreacher squawked as he lifted a small boney finger toward the lake around them that seemed to be coming to life. Waves began to ripple across the once glass-like water, crashing violently against the island they stood on and the undead breached the water's surface like fish moving up a ladder. "M-Master said we must get the locket… Beastly must hurry," the whimpering House Elf told Sirius and Remus as he moved away from the fire and closer to where they stood, his eyes wide with fear.

"We're fucking trying!" Remus grit as he scooped up another gobletful, some of the potion sloshing over his hand and wrist as he deposited more into Hermione's mouth at a breakneck speed. Two more gobletfuls were forced down her throat before the cup connected with the bottom of the basin and his breath caught in his lungs. They were close! Remus moved quickly, trying to scoop up as much as he could before turning to Hermione. Since holding her pinned he had not bothered to look at her face, knowing that it would have likely been too much for even him to bear, but with the quick glance he hesitated, the potion swirling in the cup. Her brown eyes still held a far away glaze over them, but they also held so much fear it set a shot of pure disgust straight to his core. They were hurting her, fuck, it almost looked like they were killing her! This wasn't right. Hermione was wrong, they couldn't do this. His mind swirled with doubt and as his tongue moistened his cracked dry lips, he felt Kreacher scramble under his feet before he heard the House Elf's wail of horror.

The Inferi breached the island on all sides, their rotting limbs barely able to support the weight of their bodies as they moved toward their prey, the four intruders on the island. The once-lifeless eyes of each corpse now gleamed a menacing red that seemed worse by the penetrating darkness of the cavern.

"Oh fuck!" Remus nearly fell as his head snapped around them, looking at all of the undead before back to Hermione.

Sirius opened his eyes, his heart lodged in his throat and the hands holding Hermione's wand released it instantly as he stood up, scrambling to pick up his own Ironwood.

Hermione fell backwards on ground nearly lifeless, her head bouncing off the stones.

Remus moved forward, tipping the goblet into Hermione's mouth quickly as she lay still for the first time since being bound. "Padfoot! Do something!" Remus barked at his friend, moving to refill the goblet.

Do something? What the fuck did he expect him to do!? Sirius looked around at the approaching Inferi as he tried to remember any sort of spell that might be useful against the undead. Funnily enough, this was one topic they had not covered while in school. " _Immobulus!_ " a soft blue light erupted from the end of the ironwood and two Inferi to his left froze before falling onto the island, one of which lost his arm upon impact. And although two were left immobile, it did little to stop others from crawling over their fallen bodies. "Bollocks… Uh… _Diffindo!_ " Bright green light burst toward the closest Inferius and the spell split across the undead's chest, causing the brittle ribs to fall to its feet but the impact did nothing to slow down the creature.

Sirius backed up, one hand dropped to guide Kreacher behind him at his heels as he cast spell after spell toward the advancing army with little success of slowing them down. "Moony! How much fucking longer?!- _Stupefy Duo!_ " His wand sliced through the air, and the incantation slammed into a single Inferius, sending the undead flying backwards and knocking back five others into the water with a huge splash.

"One more cup full… maybe two!" Remus shouted back, moving as quickly as he could to force more potion into Hermione's mouth. Sweat lined his brow, running down his temples as he moved to the basin and scooped the last of the emerald potion into the cup. "Come on, Hermione," he murmured, as he bent at the waist to put the last of the potion into her mouth. Just as the final drop breached her lips, he watched as she took a rasping breath and the little light that was in her eyes seemed to fade. "Fuck… no, no, no, no." He dropped the chalice, the metal clanging against the stone as he sank to his knees next to her. "Hermione? Fuck, wake up. No. No! This wasn't part of the fucking plan." His hand slapped against her cheek roughly and he yanked the wand from her lips and slipped it into his pocket, watching as her head lulled to the side and her eyes drifted half-closed.

Kreacher, who had been cowering behind Sirius, moved to the basin. His boney fingers fished into the basin until they connected with the chain from the locket and he pulled the dripping jewelry from the bowl. "I gots it… I gots it! We leave now!"

Sirius looked over his shoulder and his heart froze in his chest at the sight. His girlfriend, lifeless, bloodied, and bruised on the ground, and his best friend hovering over her with tears already falling down his face. His breath caught in his throat, his vision began to shake and the sound of the splashing water around them suddenly disappeared over the deafening roar of his heart breaking. No… No. This wasn't fucking happening.

"H-Hermione! HERMIONE WAKE UP!" Remus grabbed her shoulders, shaking her violently. He watched her head bounce off the stones, but not a single thing seemed to rouse her from her slumber. Sirius would never forgive him… fuck, Sirius would never forgive her! If she was supposed to be so fucking smart, why did she not have a god damn back up plan! The werewolf sat back on his haunches, his hands going up to cover his face as hot angry tears began to fall, betraying his normally calm demeanor. She had fucked up, she wasn't capable of handling this much darkness, and now they were all going to fucking pay the price. Remus felt a small hand curl around his shoulder, and before he could look up to see what was touching him, the pull of magic yanked him from cavern.

Brightness hit his eyes first, disorienting him momentarily, and he looked around the room. The blurry image of his flat coming into focus.

"W-What happened?! Where's Sirius?!" Regulus' voice cut through the fog and the sound of his beating footsteps thundered toward him until he was yanked up from the floor where Kreacher had left him. He heard the pop of the House Elf leaving once more, but could not manage to explain what had happened-was happening. "S-She's…She's…"

"Hermione?" Regulus questioned, silver gray eyes flickering across the werewolf's dirty face.

"De-ad" His voice cracked as the words fell from his mouth, and a hand lifted to cover his lips as if he had not meant to say it aloud.

Sirius' eyes focused on the unbreathing body of his girlfriend. Time seemed to stand still as he watched her skin turn gray underneath the grime, blood and bruises. He had seen dead bodies before, he was no stranger to death, but this was too much. It felt like a piece of his soul was violently ripping from his chest and he was helpless to prevent it from happening.

A cold, dead hand grabbed at his ankle, yanking the wizard down onto the rocks so he lay prone, and at the wind evacuated his lungs, stars blooming behind his eyes. Was this it for him as well? Would be die here in this cave just like her? No… He couldn't. He still had Prongs and Lily to save; he promised Hermione this would not be in vain and he needed to fucking do something right for the first time. He needed to fix this. His fist tightened around his wand until white bloomed in his knuckles and he pointed the end of the ironwood directly at the Inferius that was beginning to crawl across his legs. " _Incendio!"_

If the throat had not been ripped from the undead creature, he was certain he might have heard it scream in protest as it flung itself back from Sirius in abject horror and stumbled back into the sea of the undead that had followed it from the depths of the lake, igniting some of them in its effort to run from the flames.

Sirius pushed himself up off the island, palms cutting against the stones as he found his footing once more as he cast spell after spell toward the creeping Inferi, igniting their bodies in flames. The overwhelming sadness paired well with the bubbling rage that reddened his vision. She was… She was fucking dead and it was Voldemort's fault. He had never hated anyone more in that moment. His feelings about his parents and extended family paled in comparison to the uncontainable fury he felt in that moment. He was not going to die there and he was most certainly not going to let her body be left on this island like a fucking tribute to a fallen god.

One by one, the Inferi on the island were lit aflame, their screeching barely audible over the sound of the waves from the once mirror-like lake. Despite his efforts, it seemed like the body count that lay beneath the lake's surface was endless. For each Inferius that he was able to take down, three more came in its place. The small island was beginning to become swallowed up in the rotting bodies of Voldemort's most loyal soldiers. Sirius backed up, moving until his heels touched Hermione's legs, making sure she was physically close to him when his wand was raised in the air. The incantation was shouted over the noise, his nostrils flaring with determination and a roaring billowing noise seemed to drown out the sounds of death instantly. Flames erupted from the tip of his wand, blasting the wall of the undead back as he spun in a slow circle, careful to avoid the witch at his feet, and with a flick of his wrist the flames surrounding them took the shape of multiple large dragons who began to swallow up mouthfuls of rotting undead.

The flames died from his wand, but blazed bright around them and he let his wand fall to his side, watching as the wailing creatures began to crumble to ash as they fell to the fiendfyre he had created. Sirius dropped to his knees, his chest rising and falling in gasping breaths as the adrenaline caught up to him and he looked down to Hermione, who still lay motionless beside him. Shaking hands reached out, careful to scoop up her body into his lap and he cut the magical ropes around her body with the tip of his wand and a spell. "P-please… Please little bird." His voice trembled, his dirty bruised hand stroking her bruised cheek, trying to clean her skin. As if the act would make her return to life once more. "I-I can't do this. I can't do this without you," he told her. Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, splashing against her cold graying skin as he leaned down to press his forehead against hers, his nose brushing against her cheek. His shoulders shook silently as he stifled his sobs against her, his fingers curling into the soft dirty fabric of her jumper and he bit his bottom lip so tightly that soon the metallic taste of blood splashed across his tongue. "P-Please… Hermione, please."

The sound of House Elf apparition registered in the recesses of his mind, but he seemed too consumed with his grief to notice when Kreacher approached them from behind.

"C-Come back. I'll do anything. I s-swear to fucking Merlin, I'll do anything," Sirius begged, rocking her gently as he clung to her limp body tightly. As he bargained with the old gods for her return, Kreacher moved to the pair, careful to be quiet in his approach. Huge bat-like eyes searched the island to make sure it was safe before he grabbed a fistful of Sirius' clothing and with the snap of his boney fingers, they were pulled from the cavern and onto the livingroom floor of his flat.

Regulus stumbled back from Remus, his eyes widening at the werewolf's confession and his head shook, causing his shaggy black hair to fall across his forehead. "W-What? No… No. She said you could do this." Warning bells began to ring in his head as he watched Remus collapse onto the couch, seemingly shell-shocked by what type of horrors that cave contained. His head snapped, looking to the quivering House Elf who stood a few feet away. " _Go Get Sirius and Hermione!"_ he ordered, his voice taking a deep baritone that reminded him of his father.

"B-But Master…please Master. Kreacher has brought the Locket...Kreacher followed ord-"

"KREACHER GO NOW!" Regulus roared and instantly the House Elf vanished from the spot.

It took five minutes in total for him to return with his brother and the witch. Five excruciatingly long minutes. Regulus moved quickly, dropping beside his brother, and he tried to get a view of the witch in his arms. "Let me see her…Sir'. Let me see her!" he said, reaching to tug against her shoulder until Sirius finally relented.

Silver gray eyes scanned her face as he waved his wand in a quick diagnostic spell over her limp frame. Pale skin, sweaty…she was too filthy to determine what other ailments might have been the cause of this. Just as his hand dropped to touch her neck for a pulse, he noticed the emerald green film that clung to her jaw and he swiped his index and middle finger against it to collect it from her skin. His thumb rubbed the emerald green liquid against his fingers as he tried to determine the viscosity of the liquid. Thin, and slick, but not sticky. Lifting his fingers to his nose, the scent of the peppery spearmint hit him like a ton of bricks. He instantly knew what it was and he moved to wipe the residue from his fingers quickly, afraid it might seep into his pores.

"How long as she been like this?" Regulus questioned, glancing to his brother and then behind him to Remus who sat stoic, staring at their fireplace with no expression. "How long!?" he demanded more sharply, but when neither wizard made an attempt to answer he let out a string of curses under his breath as he withdrew his wand and yanked Hermione to lay flat in Sirius' arms.

Reaching out he tipped Hermione's head back so it dangled off his brother's arm in the air and the tip of his wand was placed against her parted lips. " _Aguamenti Minima!"_

A small trickle of water slipped from his wand and into her mouth, just enough to fill it and run a small stream across her cheeks and splash into the carpet. His free hand moved to her throat, and his finger and thumb surrounded her esophagus, finding it easily before he began to physically manipulate her throat so the water spilling into her mouth traveled down her throat to her stomach. It was a long shot, considering he didn't know how long she had been out, but he had to try, right? She was… she was something special to his brother, but beyond that she had saved him from a similar fate.

It took a moment, long enough for Regulus to doubt he had been right about what potion she had consumed, but soon the magicked liquid mixed with the potion in her belly. She jolted up instantly, rolling from Sirius's lap to the carpeted floor of the living room as she coughed so roughly that some of the potion came up and spilled onto their off-white floor, likely ruining it.

Remus darted to the witch, pushing Regulus out of the way as he kneeled beside her, jade green eyes wide. She wasn't… she… SHE WAS ALIVE! He reached out, helping her roll further onto her side so she could continue emptying her stomach in the middle of the living room floor. Fuck the deposit, with Sirius' smoking habit it wasn't like they would be getting it back anyways, right?

Even though she was alive, fighting to find air through her coughing, Sirius' tears did not dry. His hands shook as he patted her back with one hand, the other moving to pull the loose curls from her face. Nimune, Hecte, Merlin or Circe, whoever had allowed her soul to return to this plain, Sirius could not be certain, but he was going to make damn sure he made an altar for all four in their backyard as soon as this was over. "Y-You're okay… You're okay, Little bird," Sirius soothed, and he could not be certain if it was meant for her, or for himself at this point, but truthfully it likely did not matter because it was true. She was okay.

Looking up from his witch, Sirius watched as Regulus rose from the floor, moving before the Emerald potion made its way towards his boots, and a laugh in disbelief slipped out through his tears. Carefully pushing Hermione into Remus' care, Sirius rose, his wand left on the floor and he stepped over Hermione's prone figure and pulled Regulus in for a bruising hug. "Thank you… thank you, Reg'," he whispered to his brother, his face against the side of his brother's neck.

Regulus stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the sudden and unwelcome hug from his sibling. They had not hugged since… Since they were small boys. Easily ten or more years. He was not sure he would have even accepted if given the choice, but there was no pulling Sirius off him now, was there? One hand rose to pat Sirius on the back hesitantly while the other hung limp at his side. "It's alright…I didn't do anything, really."

"No...no you did," Sirius sniffled, "You saved her, Reg." He pulled back to look at his little brother. His eyes were red from a mixture of the tears and the adrenaline of their mission, his cheeks caked in soot and dirt. His hair was wild, and he was sure Regulus's outfit would likely be ruined, but Sirius didn't give a fucking shit about that at the moment because all that mattered was that Hermione was okay… and so was his brother. They got that fucking locket, and they were not going to let Voldemort win this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I have zero self control. Enjoy this chapter early.
> 
> Side note: She did not die, but rather was very....very close to death with Regulus gave her water. I figured I would say that before I get an inbox full of people telling me how 'NO SPELL CAN BRING A PERSON BACK FROM DEATH'. ;P Enjoy.
> 
> Much thanks to Islandgurl777, beta extraordinaire. KnitKnitRead, for your endless encouragement and Disenchantedglow, who is showering me with love and support to put more words to paper. <3


	44. Better Asked Later

**November 13th, 1979 - Puddlemere - 03:47**

Sirius leaned back against the headboard, his legs bent so he could rest his forearms against his knees as he looked down to his left at Hermione, the soft glow of a flickering candle providing just enough light to make out the deep bruises that lined the right side of her face, eye sockets and neck. Each day since their return from that horrible cavern had brought more color to her normally peaches and cream skin: deep purples, dark greens and a red so violent it looked almost maroon. Her entire body was covered and showed no signs of getting better.

Thankfully, dittany had able to provide a cure to the small cuts that had accompanied those bruises. Remus had insisted he be the one to heal her the next day after she awoke. Having been the one to force-feed her the Emerald Potion, he felt it should be him. Sirius was not going to argue, and truth be told he was not sure if he would have been able to make it through the application without shedding more tears. Now was not the time to cry; he needed to be strong for her, especially since she had been so fucking strong for him.

His hands twisted together, campfire smoke eyes dancing across her face, watching as she stirred in the bed next to him. He had gotten little sleep since their return, and the deep bags under his eyes were growing worse by the second, but he held steadfast to his silent promise to watch over her while she healed. He had almost lost her, and while that aspect to their mission was not an unaware consequences, he had never thought it possible. Which shook him more than he would ever admit out loud. Never one to think about the future, or anything long term when it came to relationships, Sirius was suddenly filled with thoughts of his future.

When he saw her, lying prone on the island and losing color, he had felt empty. Like all of the happiness in the world had been pulled from his entire being. He felt lost, like he might never be able to find the light in the consuming darkness again. Those feelings, the despair and agony, were not ones he was willing to ever relive. They needed to plan better, they needed to be more careful, but more importantly, he needed to ensure that they would be together.

She had mentioned previously she did not expect him to wait the twenty years from when she would depart this timeline and return to her own, but in the moment, Sirius knew without a shred of a doubt he would wait fifty if it meant she was able to be by his side.

Reaching up, his right hand brushed his hair back from his forehead as he tipped his head back to lean against the wall, and for what felt like the hundredth time since Regulus had brought her back from the verge of death, he said a silent thanks to the old gods for not taking her to join them on the other side.

"Go to bed, Sirius..." Hermione's gravelly voice cut through the silent room and pulled him from his thoughts. Her tone was near playful, even in the rough shape she was in.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Sirius looked back down, watching as her brown eyes fluttered open in the dim light and she tilted her head up as her arms curled under the pillow to allow her to look up at him better.

"Stop apologizing." A soft puff of air was expelled from her lungs when she accidentally put too much pressure of her hip and she positioned herself on the pillowtop so she lay more flat on her stomach. "I know I look like shit, but you don't have to, you know."

"Are you saying I look bad, Little bird?" Sirius chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting in at the smallest hint of a grin despite the faux-shocked tone he took.

"I'm saying that we cannot have two people who look like they've come from hell and back in this relationship." Hermione knew this had not been easy on either Remus or Sirius. Hell, she had hardly seen Remus since he had healed her wounds. He would bring her meals in bed or on the couch before disappearing into his room, or leave the flat entirely. She had tried to explain to both of them that she was not upset, or angry for what had happened. Hell, she hardly remembered it at all. After her third goblet full of the potion everything went fuzzy. She could only remember bits of pieces of the rest of their time there, but what she could remember in near-vivid detail was the consuming horror. It had not been anything in particular, but rather this feeling of she might not ever feel happy ever again.

"I was just trying to make you feel better, you know? Figured you might be self-conscious, so I thought I'd better try my best to match what you got going on." Sirius chuckled when her hand darted out from under the pillow to give him a two finger salute and he reached out quickly, snatching her hand in his own, and brought it towards his face so he could brush feather light kisses across her knuckles.

She smiled sleepily in his direction, turning her palm over in his hand with his guidance and she let him kiss along her palm to her wrist, enjoying the soft affections as she ran her fingers across his stubbled cheek. "You should be sleeping, you know…"

"You should be too," he quipped against her soft skin.

"I was," Hermione reminded him. Bracing her other hand against the mattress, she moved her hand from his and carefully began to roll on her side, teeth gritting to prevent the hiss of pain from leaving as she maneuvered slowly on the bed so she could better face him.

Sirius watched, eyes brimming with concern. He knew he couldn't help her move, for hidden underneath the loose night clothing were bruises lining her sides and hips. Anywhere he might touch her to assist would result in more pain than if she just did it on her own. "Do you need another potion? I can go fetch one from the kitchen."

"No… Just come here," she instructed as she lifted the blanket she lay under for him to slide beneath.

Sirius moved cautiously, careful not to get too close as he lowered himself beneath the covers a few inches from her body. His head found the pillow next to hers, and he laid on his back, his hands sliding up beneath his head and his elbows out, careful to avoid hitting her in the face as she dropped the blanket over his body.

Hermione scooted closer until the front of her body was pressed against his side and her head found the comfortable spot she had become well acquainted with since January on his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as he allowed one of his arms to drape across her shoulders, his fingers teasing the curls that lay against her upper back. His heartbeat was steady, providing the perfect soundtrack as she tried to match her own breath to his, using the rise and fall of his chest to help ease her discomfort. "You and Remus really ought to not blame yourselves," Hermione finally whispered to him, daring to broach the topic in the wee hours of the morning.

"It's hard," Sirius returned, glancing down at the back of her head through the flickering glow of their bedroom. "You looked like you'd died, Little bird…and we did that to you."

"No, you did not. Voldemort did," Hermione corrected. Her right hand rose to the center of his chest, her index finger absentmindedly drawing ancient runes in the soft black hair that lined his chest. "But I did not die, right? I'm here now…besides, both of you were just following my instructions. I trust you...both of you. You would have never let something bad happen."

"But what if it had? What if Regulus had not have been able to identify what you drank?"

"Your brother has a gift for potions, Sirius. Quite possible more so than a potions master I knew from my childhood. I highly doubt he would not have-"

"But what if he had not?" Sirius interrupted. Sliding his hand from beneath his head he reached down and enveloped hers on his chest, stilling her fingers' motions as if to better gain her attention. "Hermione...you told me you did not want to return to a future where I was not there. The same can be said in reverse. I do not want to go on to a future where you are not with me."

Hermione could hear conviction in his voice. He was not trying to convince her of anything, but rather tell her his truth. She did not need it verbalized to know how he felt, but it made her heart swell just the same to hear it. "Okay… We'll be more careful… I'll be more careful."

"It's not just about being careful," Sirius explained, his thumb dragging across the back of her hand softly. "Hermione. You're here to stop this war for continuing through decades, but it does not seem to be getting much better in the present. From what Reg' said, when that knob-head realises his Horcruxes are being destroyed, it's going to get worse."

Hermione knew this was the case. Regulus had not needed to spill the secrets of Voldemort's madness. She had lived through this once before. She had seen first hand his reaction to finding out they were being destroyed, but this was something they had to push through. Casualties were going to be inevitable during this mission; her only hope was they were going to be for the other side. "Yes, I know."

"We have to do this. I understand. I knew it was dangerous the moment I took on this mission from Moody, but I…I was not expecting… well… this," Sirius explained.

Hermione flinched, her eyes dropping for a moment. In her attempts to shield the future from him and Remus, she had inevitably prevented them from being prepared for this battle. It was only she who could be laid with blame for this, she knew, but it was for the best intentions. Ones she knew were well laid, but poorly executed. "I know… I'm sorry. I swear I won't keep anything from you. Not the smallest of details."

"No, Hermione," Sirius let out a small laugh, his head shaking. "I don't mean that. I mean this… Us."

"Oh…" Her brow furrowed when her gaze found his once more and she cocked her head slightly to the side. She had been expecting many different conversations regarding the future, her carefully masked truths and her own stubbornness in the cavern, but a conversation about their relationship was certainly not something high on the list of topics that might come up. Especially not in the middle of the night.

"Hermione...I love you. I know you've heard me say it, but…I have never said it before… I mean. I might with Prongs about it. But… it's not like how I feel about you." Sirius could feel the nervousness in his voice as he spoke, causing his pitch to sharpen every couple words. Fuck, he had not felt this uncertain about expressing his feelings since the night he told his friends he liked blokes during fourth year! "What I have with you…I don't want with anyone else. Hermione, I've never felt so sure about something in my life as I do about this. I want to marr-"

Hermione's eyes went wide with realisation in the dimly-lit room. Her heart sputtered to a screeching halt and she stole her hand from his and slapped it over his lips quickly, despite the shooting pain. "Don't… Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

Sirius frowned, shaking his head to free her hand from over his mouth. "What the bloody hell witch?" Most women would be over the moon with this type of confession. Wasn't that supposed to be the normal reaction? He typically avoided these sorts of topics, but now more than ever he knew that was the truth. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to provide her with no doubt of his intention to wait those twenty years for her so they could spend the rest of their lives together.

"Sirius, I swear to Merlin if you finish that sentence I will leave this room," she threatened.

"You can barely walk," he reminded her with an eye roll.

"Okay fine, then I'll hex you until you leave. Either way it won't matter because you absolutely cannot finish that sentence."

"This isn't a normal reaction you know," Sirius shot back. "You should be… I don't know...happy."

"Oh should I be?" Hermione returned before she shook her head at him, her hand dropping back to his chest where she could resume tracing runes against his skin, using them as a means to try to calm her mind, which felt like it was fluttering about like a lost snitch. No definitive direction in sight, just the instinct to flee. "You're...You're being impulsive. I was injured and now you feel like you need to-"

"No I do not!" Sirius scoffed.

"Let me finish!" Her hand rose and she put a single finger against his lips to silence him, this time much more gently than the first. "Sirius...this is not the time. We have so much left to do...to fix," she began, her eyes softening. "I love you so very much...and if circumstances were different I would not hesitate with what you were trying to…propose. But the fact remains the same: our future is still uncertain. There are so many ways it could be altered… Beyond that, twenty years is such a long time."

"And I already told you, several times now, that I would wait forty if that's what it took."

Hermione's eyes closed at his words, a heavy breath evacuated her lungs as she tried her best to build back up her resolve. "Sirius. We can't do this. Not right now. Beyond...every obstacle we would face if we did...do what you're suggesting, I don't want it to be like this." Her eyes cracked open to look at him once more, watching as his face showed a crushing defeat at her in the dim light. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was not supposed to fall for him, and want him this badly, and she most certainly was not supposed to want him to ask that question. Because although she knew what she was saying was true-they should not even humor the idea-part of her own heart quivered with having to shut down the statement before it could be said. Reaching up to touch his cheek, her thumb stroked across his sharp jawline, letting the days' worth of stubble tickle the pad of her thumb. "I don't want it to be because you're afraid of losing me. I don't want it because I got injured and you feel guilty."

Sirius took a moment to respond, gray eyes dancing across her face, watching the emotions move over her features like an ocean's tide. A constant pushing and pulling, battling between what would be and what she wanted. "I would be lying if I said this wasn't spurred by those things, Little bird. But this feeling is not baseless. I love you…I want to be with you until we find ourselves taken from this world, and with the possibility of it happening sooner than later well… fuck, why are we waiting?"

Hermione shook her head once more, letting out the softest of sighs as she pulled her eyes from his, not trusting herself to fight his redirect if she kept his gaze. "Isn't knowing that I love you enough for right now?"

"I...we…" There was nothing he could say in this moment that would convince her otherwise. He had known her for eleven months now and knew once those invisible walls had been erected, once she refused to meet his gaze, that her decision had been made. Hermione was a witch of many talents, but she was also possibly one of the most stubborn women he had even had the pleasure of encountering as well. Perhaps that was part of her charm. She was not afraid to put him in his place. "Of course it is," Sirius whispered back, leaning in to press his lips to the crown of her head.

They stayed silent for several moments, her fingers tracing patterns of runes on his chest next to where her head lay, listening to the steady thump of his heart breaking. "Sirius…" Hermione dared to whisper into the dimly-lit room, her voice soft and light.

"Yeah?"

"You can ask me again, you know?" she suggested, "Once...this is over. When I'm back in my timeline, and you're there too."

Sirius gulped, his fingers twitching against her skin as he fought the urge to pull her in tighter to him as the inklings of hope glimmered in the room, almost visible in the darkness. "Would you let me actually say it then?"

"It depends. Would you have a ring?"

* * *

**November 18th, 1979 - Godric's Hollow - 17:35**

"So Remus did that?" James questioned, eyes wide as he gestured to Hermione's neck which had turned from eggplant purple to light shades of red and green. When they had showed up at his door fifteen minutes ago he was certain he was going to have to tie up his friend because clearly Sirius was going to Azkaban for retaliation on whoever did this to Hermione. What he was most certainly not expecting was for the story of how she got the very visible bruises to be because of both Moony and Padfoot. "Merlin's beard. Do they hurt?"

"Prongs, really? When have you ever known a bruise like that to not hurt?" Sirius chimed in from across the living room where he was leaning against the wall, the latest issue of the Prophet opened in his hands. He was trying to catch up on the news of the past couple days as best he could from the morning issue Lily and James had kept. Since word of the Ministry and the papers being infiltrated by Death Eaters, they had all unsubscribed to the post so they would not have record of their addresses. Instead, they each took turns going to a market to pick up a paper. Which normally was not an issue, except Hermione had insisted she accompany Sirius to pick up the post from the grocer down the street. Which meant at check-out, when they would normally ask for the post to be added to their week's groceries, Sirius had instead received hateful stares from the clerk and all thoughts of trying to communicate anything beyond asking for the total vanished.

James' cheeks twinged pink, and his hand rose to lift his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well… I mean when you put it that way…"

"Honestly, it's fine. They're not so bad anymore," Hermione lied as she lifted her hand to adjust the high collar of the flannel she had chosen, trying her best to adjust the clothing so it would hide more of her skin. "He wasn't exactly given an option, from what I was told. Please, don't say anything to him. He's only just begun acting normal around me again."

"What exactly would I say? Blimey Remus, mighty strong grip you seem to have. Been working out lately?" James scoffed, waving his hand at her as if the notion was more stupid than asking if her deep bruises hurt. "I won't say anything, but… Well… Lily might have a kneazle when she sees you. You might want to see if anything in the bathroom might cover them up."

"I'm already wearing makeup… but thank you for the suggestion." Hermione winced, her hand going up to untuck her hair from behind her ears so it shielded her cheek.

"So they're actually worse than they look?!" James' eyes grew round with astonishment.

Sirius groaned, closing the paper before tossing it onto the coffee table. For as bright as James was, he had a real way of mucking situations up. "You know what? I'm parched. Little bird, you need a drink too?" Sirius questioned, cutting off James' inquisition. He watched as Hermione visibly relaxed, nodding her head in a small yes as she mouthed a silent thank you to at him for the abrupt change of subject. "Right. Prongs, mind grabbing us something to drink?"

"What? Are your legs broken?" James questioned, thick black brows lifting at Sirius when he began to approach. "I'm talking with Hermione. Go get your own drinks. You know where the fridge is."

"No, mate. I really think you should get us a drink. Being a good host and all…" Sirius hinted, putting emphasis in his words as he reached the couch and sat down next to Hermione. His arm rested behind her on the back of the sofa, nimble fingers trailing across the rough fabric as he nodded his head toward the kitchen before widening his eyes at James to imply that he needed to get out of the room.

It took a moment, but when the less than subtle hint finally resonated with the wizard, James' mouth made a small 'o'. Clapping his hands on his knees, he stood up quickly. "Right... Uh. Drinks. I'll come back with something…to drink," he stumbled over his words as he began toward the kitchen, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I'm sorry…James means well, he's just...well...Prongs," Sirius tried to explain, leaning over, and his free hand moved to tuck Hermione's hand behind her ear. He offered her a soft grin as his index finger ran the length of her jaw to the point of her chin. "You don't look bad. Honest."

"You don't need to lie to me. I know how bad I look, Sirius," Hermione clucked her tongue at her boyfriend, reaching up to take his hand from her face, and she pulled it into her lap and her fingers laced with his. "Lucky for you, I am not the vain one in this relationship. So it really doesn't bother me. I'll heal...and thankfully this isn't permanent."

"Well, you should consider yourself very lucky then," Sirius began, his tone light and playful as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze to let her know he was joking. "Because if they were you might find yourself suddenly without a boyfriend."

Hermione' mouth opened in mock surprise, laughter dancing in her eyes before the sounds erupted from her throat. "Oh, is that so?"

"You said it yourself! You're not the vain one in the relationship." Sirius shrugged innocently and when she lifted a hand to lightly pinch at the skin on his arm that was draped over her shoulders, he withdrew his arm in mock pain. "So violent! You really ought to learn how to control yourself, Little bird."

Hermione shook her head, her shoulder nudging against his. She knew what he was trying to do. Distract her from the harsh reality of what had happened to her. How close she had been to death. Even with James not being in that Cavern with them to witness it, she bore the marks on her skin as plain as day. And while a couple months prior she might have disliked Sirius' notion to joke about the situation, now she felt almost relieved, because it meant that things between them were normal. Or rather, as normal as they could be.

Sirius heard the soft muffled voice of Lily before the click of the door unlatching. Leaning over he pressed a quick kiss onto Hermione's temple before pushing up off the couch and toward the door to help the witch who had used her hip to push the front door open. "Damn, Lils. Did you buy the whole bloody store?" Sirius teased as he took two overstuffed brown paper bags from her arms.

"Only enough to feed a small army," the red head returned as she unwound a thick purple scarf from around her neck. Leaning over, she pressed a friendly kiss to Sirius' cheek before looking over his shoulder, emerald eyes searching for his better half as she hung up her scarf on the coat rack before shrugging out of the forest green parka.

Remus followed, a small box in his arms, and the tops of several bottles of wine and spirits could be seen, and heard, as they rattled about with each step. "She definitely wiped out their wine section. Only left the Chardonnay," Remus teased as he scuffed his snow-covered boots against the entry mat.

"Can't blame her, Chardonnay is for plebeians. It is far beneath her refined palate," Sirius snickered, and when Lily hit him playfully with the back of her hand against his chest, he moved quickly to avoid further damage.

"Kitchen...both of you! You can put away the groc-" Lily's smile faltered when she finally laid eyes on Hermione, who had risen from the couch but hung back to allow them space to move into the cottage. The light that had just shined in her eyes moments ago vanished, and the mittens she had removed from her hands fell to the floor in shock. Her lips parted and she shot a look at Sirius and Remus as she moved quickly across the room. "Hermione… what...what happened?"

"I'm fine. It looks worse than it is," Hermione tried to explain, laughter lining her words as Lily moved closer with a look of pure concern over her face. It was one she had seen before on her best friend: the big round eyes, the small wrinkle in the center of his forehead. The way mother and son seemed to mimic each other, despite Harry losing her so young, was almost mind-blowing at times. "The last mission was...a bit rougher than expected."

Lily's hand lifted, her fingertips brushing across Hermione's cheek, as if afraid to harm her. "They did this? Those… Death Eaters?" she questioned, white teeth biting her bottom lip, and she dropped her hand to snatch up Hermione's, their fingers lacing together so she could give her hand a quick squeeze.

"No... Voldemort did… inadvertently," Hermione responded, glancing over Lily's shoulder to Remus who paused his retreat to the kitchen with Sirius, jade green eyes casting her a silent thank you for not telling her what he had to do.

"Fucking bastard!" Lily cursed, her forehead pinching as her jaw set, a small flicker of anger splashing across her face. When Remus, who was slowly moving toward the kitchen so he might eavesdrop on the women, gasped in playful shock at her curse, Lily rolled her eyes. "Well he is!"

"Atta girl, Red. I knew I always liked you best," Sirius winked from across the room at the pair.

Hermione smirked, brown eyes flashing at her boyfriend as she lifted a thin brow. "Oh really?"

"Alright...alright. Second best, now," Sirius conceded and when Lily simply pointed a finger toward the kitchen, the wizards happily complied to her command and left the room without further instruction.

Once they were alone, Lily turned back to face her friend. Her lips pursed lightly in thought causing her brow to wrinkle as she surveyed the bruised skin. "Hermione...what happened?" Reaching out Lily lifted a hand, her fingertips feather-light as they ran over a particularly dark colored spot on the high of Hermione's right cheek.

"I'd rather not relive it...if you don't mind." Hermione let her eyes fall to her hands, which were worrying together in front of her waist. "To be honest, I don't remember a lot, but what I do remember is not exactly pleasant."

"Where was Sirius...and Remus? They were with you, weren't they?" Lily pressed as she reached out to still Hermione's hands.

"They were…but… Lily… look, I swear it's not that bad. It doesn't really hurt anymore and we got what we were there for. Technically, it was successful." Hermione let her eyes find Lily's once more, and if it weren't for the flaming red hair surrounding the witch's face, she could almost pretend for a moment she was standing here looking into her best friend's eyes, which brought her more relief than she expected. They had been through so much together, her and Harry, and now, here she was twenty years in the past going through much more with his parents. These were experiences she was to cherish, the good and the bad, for obvious reasons. She only hoped that when the time came, they all understood and were not angry with her for not telling her secret.

"Successful?" Lily repeated before she shook her head, eyes rolling toward the ceiling. "Wouldn't want to imagine what it would look like if you weren't…" Her voice trailed off, but when Hermione gave her no indication they would be going down that line of thinking, she let out a heavy puff of breath, hands tossing in the air. "Alright, fine! I won't bloody ask, but at the very least can I please put some paste on it?"

"Bruise paste?" Hermione's voice upticked just slightly with hope. It was only after the words spilled into the air did she catch her error. Bruise paste was far from being market-ready, and she very much doubted even if it was available in some prototype state that it was worth a sickle. Every one she had used that was not a Weasley product left her skin blotchy and acne would pop up in the spot it had been applied to. While she was not as vain as her partner, she was not exactly looking for a reason to have to apply make up daily.

"What? No. Cold cream." Lily's nose wrinkled a bit at Hermione in confusion. "Do they make such a thing? Bruise Paste. I probably ought to take up an investment in it for James." Snagging Hermione's hand, Lily ushered her up the stairs.

"Oh...I don't know. I just figured you have some sort of… recipe for one," Hermione lied, glancing over her shoulder down the stairs to see if any of the men had made their way back into the living room. "Wait, did you say Cold Cream? Why are you going to put Cold Cream on my face? I don't think makeup remover is going to work, Lily."

"First, that sounds ingenius. Someone should really look into making that. Second, this is an old family secret. One my mother taught me and my sister as young girls. Cold Cream and a bit of aloe mixed together and I swear it will be loads better by the morning." Lily pulled them into her bathroom upstairs. With a flick of her wrist the toilet lid was lowered and she pointed Hermione towards it so she could take a seat.

"Aloe and Cold Cream?" Hermione tried to hide her laugh as she sat down, carefully crossing her legs at the knee as she watched Lily pull the two ingredients to her concoction and set them on the counter before she began to search the drawers for something to mix them in. Clearing her throat, Hermione lifted her wand at her friend, waving it slightly back and forth to indicate she could just make one.

"Oh. Not you too." Lily waved her hand at Hermione's offer, and crouching down she peered beneath the sink, red hair falling in her face as she reached under and started to move things around. "Magic is not the answer to everything. Look, my grandmum was not a witch and she came up with this remedy. I'm sure you have some secret family thing you still do that does not require magic."

"Yes… Flossing," Hermione lifted a hand to smother her laugh, watching as Lily withdrew an aluminum can of hairspray and pulled the pink plastic cap off the top before standing up, her foot lifting to shut the small cupboard.

Lily scooped a thick glob of the cold cream out of the small plastic container and into the upturned cap before adding a squeeze of aloe. There was clearly no science to this remedy, but Lily seemed to judge the consistency the same way Snape would a potion, her fingers testing the viscosity. Once it coated her fingers but did not slide off them, she knew she had it perfect. "Alright, now sit still. This stuff tastes worse than Hagrid's bread pudding."

Heeding Lily's warning, Hermione stayed motionless, her hands folded in her lap, and she let Lily paint the concoction on her bruise, only wincing when she would press a bit too hard into the tender skin. "I'll do my neck," Hermione said quickly when she felt Lily's fingers trail across her jaw as her eyes dropped lower to eye the hand-like bruise that ran a ring around her throat.

Lily nodded, handing over the cap before she took Hermione's place on the closed toilet once the witch had vacated it. "Since you won't tell me what happened…can you tell me how many of those things are left?"

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, carefully working the cold lotion into her neck with two fingers. Diary, locket, diadem, cup, and ring. She was almost certain the snake was not factored into Voldemort's history at this point, which meant they only had three more. One of which was still safe within the Hogwarts castle, which really meant there were only two left they had to really search for. "Three, but I am fairly certain of the location of two of them...one of which is far easier to get than the other."

"How soon then…do you think you'll be done?"

"Well. It depends, I suppose… maybe in a month… two?" Hermione estimated before she set the pink cap down on the countertop and looked over to the witch. "Why do you ask?"

Lily shrugged as innocently as possible, but it was obviously she was hiding something. Lily was many things-smart, kind and even at times, ferocious-but she was not a good liar.

"Lily…"

"I'm just trying to figure out how much longer you'll be here with us!" Lily confessed quickly.

Hermione's heart stumbled, her eyes widening a fraction of an inch. Did they tell?! "W-What?"

"Before you go back to America...Unless you're planning on transferring to the British Ministry of Magic… which you could! James would put in a good word, and you already known Alastor." Lily's voice trembled with hope, raising just a bit from her normal pitch. "If you transferred, then it would be like this all the time… I don't want to assume anything about your relationship with Sirius, but…"

"Oh Lily...I-" Hermione began, her shoulders relaxing, and a soft breathy laugh was given as her body seemed to calm down from the sudden jump start. "I'm here until September...I don't exactly know what is going to happen after then, but I can promise you, I will never stop being your friend. Even if Sirius and I… don't work out."

"I highly doubt that's even an option. You two not working out, that is," The redhead scoffed. "He's fairly smitten with you. If given the choice I'm sure he'd tie you up and never let you leave."

"Well… I mean if you want to suggest some light bondage to him, I'm not one to argue. I must admit I am a bit surprised. Never figured James for a ropes bloke." Hermione tried to keep her face straight as she spoke, but when Lily's face blossomed in a blush at her forwardness, she burst into laughter.

"You know. Maybe I need to rethink this. Sirius is clearly rubbing off on you." Lily shook her head as she stood up from the toilet, before gesturing to the opened door. "Alright, now that you're fixed up, we better go get started on dinner, or else those three are going to start foraging for goods like forest creatures."

Hermione nodded in agreement before leading the way out of the bathroom, and she made it halfway down the stairs before the notion hit her. "Wait Lily, you do realise they _are_ forest creatures, right?"

* * *

**November 18th, 1979 - Godric's Hollow - 20:13**

The rest of the night went as normal as the other marauder dinners, with the exception of one less dinner plate being prepared. Lily had moved around the kitchen with a finesse that rivaled Molly Weasley, preparing a small feast of baked salmon, red potatoes and winter squash. James, who was less than thrilled about eating the squash, cleared his plate after receiving what Remus had dubbed Lily's 'evil eye'.

By the time everyone ate, plates were cleared (by hand, per Lily's household rule of 'not everything requires magic'), and the kitchen was cleaned, the five friends found themselves sitting around the kitchen table, as they often did post-dinner. Hermione knew part of the reason they had moved up their weekly meal was for the announcement about Regulus, something neither Remus or he had informed James of yet. It wasn't that they were keeping it a secret from him, but rather, trying to find the best way to approach the topic.

Of course, to only Hermione's surprise, James was not taking the news without a lot skepticism.

"What do you mean 'help us'? He's...he's a Death Eater." James reached up, adjusting his glasses up his nose as he glanced between Hermione and Sirius.

"He's had a change of heart," Hermione tried to explain. Her hands were hidden under the table, and when she heard James let out a short hollow laugh at her explanation, she reached out to lay a hand on Sirius' thigh.

"Was that before or after he helped kill people?" James murmured, wincing when Lily smacked his arm.

"We really did not ask him for his fatality record, to be fair, but I don't think it matters at this point. He had to do what he needed to survive. He saw the error of his ways and he means to help kill Voldemort," Remus piped up, his hands carefully rolling his wand between his hands.

"I...I don't know guys," James frowned, his brow wrinkling. "I know I'm not his biggest fan, so color me biased but...this seems like a stretch. Why would he have a sudden change of heart?"

"Biased? James, you have had it out for Regulus since your little spat with him in fifth year. If they say he has changed, I believe them. I say we need to give him a chance." Lily said decidedly.

"Little spat? He set my robes on fire!" James said quickly.

"What?" Hermione laughed in disbelief, looking up to Sirius when he took the hand on his leg in his own, lacing his fingers with hers.

"It's a long story," Sirius whispered, leaning closer to his girlfriend so his voice did not carry. "James gave Regulus a detention for breaking curfew, even though we were all out with him… Reg was not exactly kind in return."

"This is just...fucking great. First Snivellus, now Regulus. Next you'll be telling me fucking Malfoy is helping us too!" James grumbled, his arms crossing over his chest. "I am drawing my line at fucking Malfoy. I won't help that blond shit, even if he is married to your cousin."

"James, please don't use that name," Lily scolded her husband, although there was no fire in her tone. "You know what his name is."

"Wait… Snape?!"-"Snivellus?!" Remus and Sirius both questioned at the same time, instantly straightening in their chairs with dual-shocked expression as they looked between the two Potters.

"Yeah, he came crawling to Dumbledore about a week ago. Something about wanting to help. To be honest I think he might be full of shit but Dumbledore wants to give him a chance. He alluded to Snape having some key information that might help us kill the head dick in charge, so..." James explained with a well placed eyeroll. Their feud was not exactly a secret, and James clearly had not allowed the time spent since graduation to heal his wounds and pride.

"Key information? What could be more key than pieces of his soul?" Remus questioned.

"Your guess is as good as mine!" James lifted his hands up with a shrug as he leaned back in the hard wooden chair.

Hermione glanced around the table, watching as Lily shot daggers at her husband, who seemed to simmer in his less-than-quiet mistrust of the two defected Death Eaters. She had a timetable at Sirius and Remus' flat, but she was almost positive that the Prophecy had not been given yet. Which meant one of two things: either her presence here had really altered the timeline and moved the Prophecy date up… or Voldemort was slipping further into his madness. The scary part was that she could not decide in that moment which of those options was worse.

"I think we ought to trust them both," Hermione said quickly, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the table. She felt Sirius bristle under her touch, Remus' and James' eyes widen, and Lily's expression soften just a bit. "I trust Regulus…He saved my life. And..." She knew Snape's fate the first time around...she knew there was still good within his soul. No matter how cloudy. "If Dumbledore trusts Severus, so can I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Crimes of Grindelwald weekend! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I am going to work to try and give you one more before this upcoming holiday (American Thanksgiving for those international folks), so cross your fingers. 
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to beta, islandgurl777 & alpha KnitKnitRead.


	45. Little Hangleton

**December 4th, 1979 - 13:00 - Little Hangleton**

Hermione kept her foot fall light as she moved across the threshold of the decaying shack, her wand drawn and the soft glow of artificial light gleaming from the tip as she looked around what appeared to have been the livingroom at one point in time. Despite opting to visit this place in the light of day (partially in hopes of making it less spooky than their last horcrux retrieval), the overgrown trees that hid the homestead from the view of prying Muggle eyes did well to block any sunlight out. Additionally, the windows had been long boarded up with thin sheets of wood likely reclaimed from the inside of the house, if she had to guess by the missing floorboards.

The house smelled of decay, but what had died inside she could not be certain. The stench made her stomach turn violently in revolt. Her free hand lifted to cover her mouth and nose as she retched, head turning to the side to try and get some of the fresh breeze from outside the crumbling home. Her fingers grasped the thick rust colored scarf that was loosely tied around her neck and she lifted it quickly to cover her nose and mouth in an attempt to filter out the vile smell.

It had taken her nearly four hours to break through the wards Voldemort had placed on the decrepit home, something she had thought she was prepared for, but it seemed she did not truly grasp the depth of Voldemort's ability to place wards until this very moment. He was powerful, that much was well known, but the power she had been witness to had been in offensive spellwork, not defensive. By the time she had managed to break down the numerous wards, her fingers ached from the tiny cuts that they gave her during her attempts at breaking through them; small and penetrating, their magic cut deep in an attempt to thwart her. And her arms felt heavy, as if laden with stones. But when that final sizzle popped, letting her know she had cleared the home of Voldemort's spells, she felt an indescribable burst of energy. Retrieving the Ring from this shack was something Dumbledore had done alone in her time. It had been the very first horcrux collected and destroyed. It had set into motion the events of her seventh year. He had not asked for Harry's assistance when coming here, because for as wise and omniscient as Dumbledore was, he likely still held doubts about what he was looking for in this place.

"You alright, Little bird?" Sirius questioned from behind, still on the earthen floor outside the home, ironwood wand lifted up to provide light in the dark shadow that surrounded the outside. His shaggy black hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, but the front strands hung loose around his unshaven face. He had been hesitant to come here when Hermione told him the exact location of this horcrux. Visiting Voldemort's family home sounded like a fucking terrible idea, especially after he heard the family name. Gaunt. That was a name Sirius was all too familiar with. They were part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and at one time, considered a most noble and ancient house. Even in the Pureblood society their ideals were deemed rather unbecoming. Marrying siblings, or first cousins. Sirius' own family tree was riddled with narrowly set branches (take a look at his fucking parents for proof) but even the Blacks thought to intermarry too closely was rather foul. Of course, there was also the fact that the family had a history of a very peculiar gift, Parseltongue.

Which was why when she said the family name as casually as one might discuss the weather forecast, Sirius about fell out of his bed in shock. Nature's Nobility had made no mention of there being any Gaunt heirs in present day, but then again he had not been forced to lay eyes on those faded pages in years.

Leading up to their departure, a sense of unease began to creep more and more into the plan, and when Remus had to regretfully decline attending due his monthly little problem, Sirius almost put his foot down and demanded that they reschedule. Hermione had nothing regarding the unknowns about what lay around this particular Horcrux, and Sirius was right to assume that if he had placed hoards of inferi around the last one, then this one might not be so different. In the end Hermione had won the argument, but mainly because she was able to logically point out that the majority of the Horcruxes they were after were not similarly placed like the locket.

"I'm alright… it just smells like death," Hermione explained, her voice muffled by the scarf. She tried her best to breathe through her mouth, hoping it might lessen the impact of scent in the air. She lowered her wand to the floor, careful to light her step as she moved into the house cautiously. Each step she took caused the floorboards to creak in protest. Cockroaches scurried away from the light, darting under what appeared to be pieces of furniture in various states of disrepair. Sliding her boot out, she gave a weak looking board a nudge and watched it nearly cave in on itself. "Be careful in here."

Grabbing the neck of his cotton shirt, Sirius pulled it up over his nose before ascending the stairs into the house to follow Hermione. His eyes instantly watered at the sharp smell, and despite being warned of the stench, he had not properly prepared himself for the penetrating aroma. It seeped into his clothing, and the thin cotton shirt was no resistance to it. "Fucking hell," he managed before lifting his arm so he could tuck his face into the crook of his elbow. "What the hell is that smell?"

Hermione maneuvered around an overturned couch, brown eyes carefully assessing the room as she moved through it, careful to leave no part unsurveyed. Dumbledore had mentioned the ring had lay in a box beneath the floorboards, but where exactly was the million galleon question, wasn't it? "I'm not entirely sure, but I am hoping we don't find out."

Sirius gave a fleeting glance at the opened doorway he had just walked through, debating using a spell to direct fresh air into the shack, but judging by the state of disrepair it was in, with one good gailwind the whole thing might come toppling down on them. "Right… so remind me again, what are we looking for?"

"A gold box. There was mention of it being beneath the floorboards so I am trying to see-"

" _Accio_ Box," Sirius cut her off, his wand still outstretched in front of him and when nothing came darting towards him or even rattled to give away the location he frowned. " _Accio_ Ring…?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder, her amused expression hidden beneath the thick scarf wrapped around her head. "You do know that won't work…I'm fairly certain I've told you that before."

"Well...I figured at the very least it was worth a shot," Sirius shrugged, his arm still covering his face and he winked at his girlfriend before turning his head to look around the room.

Hermione snorted, shaking her head as she turned back around so she could watch the floorboards as she moved around the rotting frame of a couch. "Like I was saying. I am trying to see if there are floorboards that appear different from the rest. Something that might give away that it is untouched like the rest of the house."

"Untouched. Got it," Sirius repeated as his gray eyes scanned the opposite side of the room she was on. The far wall was crumbling, and through the massive holes in the drywall he could see the remains of what was once a kitchen on the other side. "I'll take the kitchen, you got it in here?"

"Sounds good. Just be careful. The flooring is weak," Hermione warned as she slid the toe of her boot across the ground in front of her testing the rigidity of the floorboard before she took her next step.

"Really? Couldn't tell." Sirius knew his sarcasm was not needed, but this place gave him a terrible feeling and he had to try and make it at least tolerable until they found the damn thing and hightailed it out of here. "Just shout if you find it… or the source of the smell."

Hermione lifted her hand to wave him off before crouching down to lift the small corner of a thin sheet off of a small rubbish pile with the tip of her wand. Just as the shroud was pulled back, the sight of decaying skeletal remains came into view. The leathered skin stretched tight across the skull, clumps of black hair hung like strings and the clothing that they wore when they were left here hung off their bones. Hermione watched as out of the eye socket a thick millipede scurried into the base of the skull to disappear from the soft light of her wand and her skin instantly began to crawl. Every instinct in her body that Auror training had tried to combat rose to the surface and a loud scream left her lips. She scrambled back, no longer paying any heed to the warning she had just given her boyfriend as flashbacks of the cavern came into her mind. The unbidden memories assaulted her consciousness like a tidal wave, all-consuming and stealing every last ounce of air in her lungs. The inferi, the feeling of the potion, it all hit her at once and she was suddenly feeling more trapped inside this house than she had been moments ago.

Her heartbeat thundered against her chest, pumping blood so quickly she was sure the ringing in her ears was from it as opposed to her own scream and as she scrambled backward, her right foot broke through a loose floorboard and she fell backwards. A sharp stab of pain shot down her leg as the splintered end of the board bit into the back of her knee and pierced through her jeans into her soft skin.

Sirius moved quickly, his arm dropping away from his face as he pushed past the piles of decaying furniture to make his way to her, heavy boots pounding against the broken floor. "Hermione!" He pushed himself over the back of the couch with one jump, using the visible springs in the cushions to lessen his fall before he hit the ground near were she was stuck in the floorboards. Gray eyes darted in the direction of what she had fled from, and as the image of the corpse was registered he inhaled sharply before averting his eyes back to his girlfriend who was still struggling to get away. "Hey… hey it's okay. It's okay, Little bird." He spoke softly in hopes of calming her down just enough so she could pull herself out of the sudden wave of terror that had taken hold of his normally composed girlfriend. Reaching out, his hand met her shoulder and he felt her body quake with fear. "It's dead…it's okay."

"S-Sirius," she whispered, wide eyes looking up to him, confused for a moment, but when he touched her cheek, his soft words washing over her like some sort of wandless magic, the hammering of her heart began to calm to a dull roar. It was dead… this wasn't like the last time. This wasn't one of those… fuck. "I-I'm sorry… I-I forgot," she apologized for her weakness. For thinking that the physical healing of her wounds from the last retrieval also meant her emotional ones were patched up enough. Reaching out she grabbed a fistful of the front of his jacket and try to pull herself from the floorboards, but only managed to dig the splinters further into her leg.

Sirius' hand dropped to her leg that was disappearing beneath the shattered floorboards, "Hey. I got you. Relax. You're caught, Little bird," he instructed the witch as he wound his other arm around her waist, his wand nudging her elbow, and he eased her forward until he felt the wood release the hold it had on her jeans before carefully lifting her out of the hole that she had created. "Can you stand?"

"I...I think so." She kept her eyes off the dead body, not trusting herself not to give into the fear once more. It had all been too much. The scent of death, the decaying corpse and the crumbling home. She had allowed herself to play into the scene that Voldemort had created. She hated herself in this moment for being so damn weak, for allowing him to get to her, but she hated him more. For being so fucking twisted and creating this wretched thing in the first place. Finding her footing, she locked her knees to prevent them from giving out on her.

"I'm going to look at your leg, and then you're waiting outside… I can find this stupid box on my own." Sirius' voice was firm, letting her know there was no point in trying to argue with him in this very moment.

As much as she wanted to tell him that she would manage, a part of her was slightly grateful for him taking the lead. Hermione knew she was strong, and capable of handling this situation if needed, but having someone there in her corner telling her it was okay to let down her guard, even for a nanosecond was a welcome relief. She watched him crouch down behind her, his wand nestled between his lips as he used his hands to smooth out the back of her jeans, and she felt him tug on her pants before a ripping sound could he heard and she twisted at the waist to see what the hell he thought he was doing "Hey!"

"I need to look at it!" he managed around his wand, glancing up to her, and his hand rose to her hips and he straightened her body as best as he could. "Now stay still," he instructed, his eyes dropping once more to assess the damage she had done. Pieces of floorboard nestled underneath the soft skin, and small trickles of blood ran down her legs, being pulled by gravity toward her ankle. All in all, he had seen worse from her, but it seemed she was bound and determined to injure herself ever damn mission they had gone on. He knew she was worried about him not making it to her timeline, but at the rate she was going she might not make it back either! He frowned at the thought after pulling his ironwood from between his teeth, and he cast a cleaning charm to the injury which earned him a hiss in disapproval as the magic ate away the dirt from the wound. "Alright. I got this from here… you go wait outside."

Hermione didn't move, and when she felt Sirius' hands on her hips, trying to guide her backward away from the hole in the floorboards her head shook and she looked over her shoulder to him before back down into the blackness. "It's down there."

"What?" Sirius questioned, frowning as he looked over her shoulder to the hole. There was no light in it, which made it impossible for her to see anything past the broken boards framing it. "How do you know?"

Hermione's tongue darted out, moistening her dry lips, and she took a slow step backwards, her body pressing further against his. "Because I...uh… I can hear it?... No I can feel it. I'm not sure how to… describe it but it's down there."

"Hear it," Sirius repeated quizzically as he moved out of her way to step closer to the hole, trying to see if he could make out anything inside the penetrating darkness. "It's a bloody ring, what do you mean you can _hear or feel_ it? Did you become part Niffler without my knowledge?"

"It's a soul trapped in a ring, Sirius. It's not exactly a normal piece of bloody jewelry," Hermione corrected, her fingers tightening their hold on her vinewood to the point of her knuckles turning white. "And it is down there...it wants to be found," she assured her boyfriend before pointing her wand in the direction of the broken floorboards. " _Lumos!_ " The white light that had been fixed on the tip of her wand floated toward the hole, the small orb bouncing in the air like a butterfly, and without any hesitation it moved into the crevasse, the soft light illuminating beneath the house to reveal a massive network of thick stringy tendrils and vines.

Sirius edged closer to the hole before crouching down, his lips pursing as he eyed the vines with apprehension. "If it wants to be found it should bloody fucking come up since it's so sentient," he grumbled, twisting his wand between his hands as if weighing his options as to how he would locate the box beneath the roots. Maybe if he thought about it like working on his motorbike it wouldn't be so bad? Grabbing his wand with his left hand, he pushed the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow before leaning down and plunging his arm into the depths.

They felt slimy, and cool to the touch, which really was not shocking considering there was snow outside on the ground. What had begun to alarm him was the way it felt like the vines were almost pulsing, like they were alive. Pushing the thought away, he shoved his hand deeper into the massive network until he lay nearly flat against the dusty floor trying to blindly find the box she was certain was beneath. When his fingers brushed against something hard, he had thought he might have found the earth, but it felt too cold...and etched. Like whatever it was had engravings on it. "Found it."

Hermione had not moved a muscle, as if petrified watching him. The corpse was less than ten feet from the hole, and providing a looming backdrop. She knew she was supposed to go outside and wait for him, preferably somewhere far away from the dead body and the looming darkness inside this hovel, but something told her to wait. "Don't open the box!" she said quickly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. "If it opens drop it...the ring is cursed."

"Now you tell me," Sirius grumbled, a heavy puff of air swirling the dust on the floorboard in front of him, and he wrapped his hand around the etched box and began to try and tug it up from the vines. At first Sirius thought it might just be his mind playing tricks on him, given that he was shoulder deep in a hole in the middle of a rather eerie shack, but then it happened again. The vines were moving, sliding against his arm and wrist. "Uh...Little bird," Sirius called out hesitantly, pausing his movement for a moment to confirm what he was feeling, and his face began to slowly drain of colour as his own fear set in. "...what do you know about herbology?"

"Uh...I mean it was not my favorite subject but I know enough...why?" Hermione questioned, her brow knitting in confusion. What was he playing at? This was clearly not the time to question her academics standings in Herbology!

"Because I'm fairly bloody certain this isn't just ivy and roots." Suddenly a thick tendril wrapped around his wrist and he was yanked roughly into the hole, his torso slamming against the floorboards that cracked at the impact. "Bloody fuck!" Sirius yanked on his arm, pushing on the floor with his other hand to provide him some sort of leverage as his hand tightened its hold on the engraved box.

Hermione watched as thick roots rose from the small cracks in the floorboards, bursting through holes in the wood and began towards Sirius, wrapping themselves around his boots and waist. Devil's Snare! How could she had not fucking seen that coming? Raising her wand she pointed it towards the vines, and her mouth opened to perform a spell she knew all too well, but suddenly a thick root burst from beneath her feet, shattering the spot she stood on. "Lum-AHH!"

Sirius's head snapped back to her just in time to watch as thick roots swallowed her up and pulled her beneath the floorboards. "Motherfucker!" Sirius cursed, his teeth gritting, and he pulled as hard as he could, successfully dislodging his arm from the sentient vines with the small tarnished gleaming box in his hand. "WHAT IS THIS?" Sirius shouted, kicking at a new set of roots that broke through the floorboards to try and grab at his legs.

Hermione knew she was supposed to stay still and calm, and under different circumstances she would have, but as soon as four tendrils began to wind around her throat all logical thought vanished and she began to thrash and kick. She jabbed the tip of her wand into one of the roots and with a wordless charm the plant loosened its grip as a small round burn mark was left on the tendril. "DEVIL'S SNAAAAAAAAAARR-" she rasped out as loud as she could, digging her heels into what she assumed was more veins, trying to kick her way back to the surface.

Devil's' Snare? Sirius knew this plant! They had potted in during third year. What the hell had Sprout taught them?! His mind raced through what felt like archives of old useless information as he was slowly dragged backward towards the hole. Fire? Did it not like fire? No, that didn't sound right… Salt? Aversion to salt… fuck, no...what the bloody hell was it. SUN! They don't like the sun! Looking up at the ceiling, Sirius could make out hints of light through the holes in the rafters. Raising the ironwood toward the sky, Sirius shouted. " _Bombarda Maxima!_ "

The white hot light of the spell burst from the end of the ironwood and hit the ceiling. It was as if in the moment the world had moved into slow motion. He watched as a mushroom cloud of magical energy spread out along the rafter, shaking the wooden beams of the ceiling before the sound caught up with the spell. The cacophony was deafening as the blast tore through the ceiling and created a massive hole in the treeline, letting the bright afternoon sun into the home as shingles, wood and nails rained around them.

The Devil's Snare instantly retreated as the warmth of the sunlight burst into the room. Neither of them could hear a thing over the ringing that the spell had left in their ears, but Hermione was almost certain the plant seemed to shriek in protest as it released her instantly to retreat under what was left of the crumbling floor of the Gaunt Shack. Grabbing the closest edge of the floorboard, Hermione hoisted herself up inside the house once more. Splinters of wood lodged in her curls and a heavy cloud of dust hung in the air, clouding her view of Sirius but she could make out his outline through the haze. She pushed herself up from the floor, hand waving in front of her as she coughed through the smoke, eyes narrowing to try and make out a clearer picture of Sirius as he moved towards her.

His hair had fallen loose from his ponytail, dirt and dust clung to his clothing, but he was unscathed. As he approached his wand was still held tightly in one hand while the other held the box. The whole reason they had come here in the first place. "Two more?"

Hermione nodded, her hand curling a fist in front of her mouth to capture her cough.

Sirius let out a heavy breath, glancing around them to the remaining walls of the house that still stood. The door they had walked through had collapsed, which meant they were either apparating directly from the home or climbing through a hole in the wall. Reaching out he placed the box in her hand before pulling her to him, his arms winding around her torso as his hands went up to the back of her head, picking out a couple of the large chunks of wood. "Next time we're bringing Lily."

Hermione looked up, her chin resting against his chest as she cocked her head to the side. "Lily? Why would we bring Lily? James would never be okay with sending her."

Sirius' right hand moved, tucking the strands of curls on the right side of her face behind her ears. "We already passed the Potions test, this was Herbology. That leaves Care of Magical Creatures and Transfiguration, both of which I got down. You're tops in Ancient Runes and Anthrimancy. The only leaves Charms. Lily's a fucking beast in Charms."

"You do know this isn't an exam, right?" Hermione questioned with a small laugh, her hard expression softening.

"You should really tell Volde-dick that, because from where I'm standing, we just passed two N.E.W.T's getting those things," Sirius replied matter-of-factly, reaching down to guide her arm around his waist, and once she grabbed a hold of the back of his jacket, he cast his eyes skyward, looking through the trees to the light blue and thought of home.

* * *

**December 9th, 1979 - 06:00 - Tutshill**

"Don't touch it!" Hermione snapped from across the snow-covered yard, brown eyes flashing at Regulus who had begun to open the small golden box on the patio table.

Regulus jumped; the cigarette that hung loosely in his lips tumbled into his lap and he stood up quickly, patting at his crotch to push the fallen embers off of himself. His brother who was sitting next to him on old patio furniture had obviously found the whole scene amusing because he had to pause puffing on his own cigarette to let out a loud series of belly laughs. Shooting him a hard look, Regulus reached out to pluck Sirius' cigarette from between his fingers and he tossed it into the snow at his feet where his own had fallen. "Asshole," he grumbled before looking back over to the witch who was magically repairing a cement birdbath across the lawn with the help of the werewolf.

Sirius wiped the corner of his eyes with his knuckles. If losing a perfectly good cigarette meant he got to watch Regulus frantically try to make sure his trousers weren't set ablaze, Sirius would have happily given up several packs. The mental image would last him a lifetime. "She had already warned you not to touch it when you arrived."

The cold morning air hung around the small cottage, blurring the fields around them with the thick fog. When Regulus had apparated to this place, as directed in the letter, he almost immediately left. It was bloody cold, and far too early in the morning for him to be dealing with this sort of shit, but when he heard Hermione's voice call out to him through the fog, he simply tucked his scarf tighter around his neck and prayed that whatever she promised to show him was worth the fucking effort. Of course, where he sat right now it seemed hardly worth it. "I can fucking touch the other one. Why is it such a big deal?"

Hermione tucked her wand into the pocket of her peacoat, eyeing the repair job on the birdbath skeptically. They didn't need it to last long, so she didn't think it would make a bit of a difference if it wasn't perfect, but the perfectionist in her was crying. "Because the locket isn't cursed. The ring is," Hermione explained sharply as she turned around to look at the set of brothers on the patio.

She could not help but notice how vastly different they appeared, even now. Regulus was put together, as any Pure-Blood boy should be. Pressed gray wool trousers, a dark navy thick double breasted caped overcoat, cream scarf. And although she could not see what he wore beneath his coat, she would not be surprised if there was an ascot and vest. His hair was swept back, carefully combed into an very regal pompadour. Despite his physical beauty being less than his brother's, Regulus seemed to ooze an appeal that was undeniable, even to Hermione.

And then there was Sirius. The wizard she was certain was the love of her life. The sharpness of his cheeks was visible under the week's worth of black stubble. Even in his less than put together state, there was no denying he was the more handsome of the pair. It could be that the gray in his eyes was warm, like smoke from a smoldering fire, as opposed to cold and hard like steel, or the fact that he always had the hint of a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Sirius was the prime example of the boy most parents warned their daughters (or sons in his case) about. His shoulder length black hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck, loose strands of hair he had not collected framing his face. A dirty charcoal gray hooded sweatshirt was worn underneath his leather jacket and a pair of tight muggle jeans that had seen the inside of his workshop more often than not had been pulled from his designated 'not too dirty' pile of clothing from his bedroom floor before leaving the house. He was a dangerous collection of her favorite things.

"So unless you do not wish to maintain existing, I would suggest you heed my warning." Hermione's boots crunched through the snow as she moved over to the table where they sat to collect the dark artifacts.

"How do you know it's cursed?" Regulus lifted a brow to her, a look of disbelief prevalent on his features.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Remus finally piped up from across the lawn. In his hands a white paper cup was clutched, thick steam lifting from its open lid. Before leaving the house he had insisted-no, demanded they stop by the cafe for a cup of tea. It was snowing, and still dark outside; he would be damned if he was going to witness another Horcrux execution without a minimum of one cup of tea in his system. "Witch...from...the...future. While I do know this concept might be hard to grasp, it is not a bloody secret how she knows. You snakes are supposed to be smart or cunning, right? Are you certain you got sorted correctly?"

Regulus' bristled, his lips thinning in a sneer, and just as he opened his mouth to remind the werewolf of his place, he felt a hand touch his that were laying atop the small patio table. He looked over to see who had invaded his space and suddenly all thoughts of how he needed to dress down Remus vanished.

"Regulus, you trust me right?" Hermione questioned in a softer tone than she had taken moments ago. Brown eyes were soft, imploring him to let down his guard, even for a moment, and allow himself to trust them.

"I don't know you," he responded honestly, glancing over to Sirius who tried to hide his scoff under a well placed cough.

"That's fair," Hermione agreed. Her fingertips brushing over the back of his hand as she moved around the table to stand beside Sirius, who reached out to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her gently against him. "But I've given you no reason to doubt me. I've shown you the Time-Turner, the proof I brought back with me. So… the foundation of trust is there, right?"

Regulus watched, eyes flickering between the witch and his brother and for whatever reason, the strange hints of jealousy began to bubble as he watched Sirius's fingers slip under the hemline of her peacoat to brush against the skin on her hip as she spoke. He tore his gaze away, and stood up from the table, sending the aged patio chair skittering backwards across the stone porch. "This isn't fucking family therapy. I'll give you my trust once you've earned it. Until then you shall be fine with the arm's length I keep all of you at," he snapped as he shoved his hands into his coat pocket. "Now that it is clear, can we fucking do this already? I have plans today I would rather not reschedule."

Sirius watched as his brother retreated from the table toward the reconstructed bird bath, his boots angrily crunching against the snow. Biting back a sarcastic reply, he turned his head and pressed his lips against Hermione's side, knowing that beneath the bulky layers the large purple curse mark lay. "He's always been like this… don't take it personally," he informed his witch before standing from the chair, and he released his loose hold on her to grab the locket that lay next to the closed golden box.

"The more I learn about your family," Hermione sighed as she reached out to pick up the golden box, "the more I dislike them."

"You're not alone," Sirius agreed with a small laugh, glancing over to Regulus and Remus who were standing five feet apart, both keeping their eyes downcast and purposefully away from one another. His relationship with Regulus had taken years to disintegrate. He held no expectations that it would be repaired overnight, but silently hoped bringing him along to witness the destruction of the Horcruxes might allow some sort of bridge to be built. It would show that, at the very least, they both shared a common goal.

Hermione and Sirius made their way across the lawn to join the two stoic looking wizards. Sirius laid the locket in the center of the bird bath, careful to place it face up before he took a step back for Hermione.

The box was light, despite the precious metal it was made from, but in this moment it felt like it easily weighed three stone. Inside the box was more than just a family heirloom with a soul attached to it, there was also an artifact so valuable many men and women had lost their lives fighting for it. The resurrection stone. What she could only assume was the reason Harry had come back in her original timeline. One third of the deathly hallows! This stone had the potential to unlock secrets, cure ailments and provide so much value to the wizarding world. But this stone was also a bringer of death. Which was exactly why it had to be destroyed. Beyond the Horcrux, no person needed the power to return life to the departed.

Her hands trembled as she cracked open the box. Inside on a crimson pillow of crushed velvet sat the ring. The thick gold band glinted, even in the darkness, a telltale sign of the magic imbued in it. Nestled inside the band sat the thick black stone. It could easily be confused with onyx, which had often been used in men's jewelry in the past. She could make out a faint etching on the surface the cloak, the wand and the stone. The symbol of the Deathly Hallows. How anyone had ever not assumed the nature of this before was beyond her. But then again, they weren't looking at it through the same lense as she was.

Tipping the box over, the ring fell into the cement basin with a heavy thud and instead of bouncing around like any other piece of jewelry it stay pulled to the basin, as if held down by extreme weight or magnets.

Hermione took a step back, carefully setting the golden box down in the snow behind her, brown eyes watching as the two pieces of soul seemed to sense the presences of one another and a soft screeching sound began to emit from the locket. One she had heard before. "Remus, you got that vial?"

Remus nodded, jade green eyes stuck on the cement basin with apprehension as he watched the ring begin to wobble in protest, despite no one touching it or the birdbath, and he pressed his paper cup of tea into Regulus' chest. "Take this," he instructed before fishing out a small teardrop shaped vial from his pocket. Inside was a black liquid that shimmered with crimson flakes under the right light. The top had been sealed shut with thick globs of emerald wax, preventing it from accidentally opening.

Withdrawing her wand from her pocket, Hermione held out her other hand over the bird bath, palm outstretched to him to take the vial, and just as Remus reached out to put it in her palm the cover on the locket slid open wide with an audible click and a pair of dark living eyes swirled around the inside, as if assessing who surrounded it.

Regulus gasped and took a stumbling step back from the objects, color instantly dropping from his face. He would recognize that eye color anywhere… those eyes… they belonged to the Dark Lord. He had seen it too many times, affixed with hatred and malice cast in his direction to know to immediately fear that particular shade of brown.

"Shit!" Remus pulled his hand back quickly, eyes wide as he stumbled back from the basin, the small vial of black liquid falling into the snow.

" _Remus Lupin…"_ the locket hissed, the brown unblinking eye focused on Remus who had suddenly become paralyzed in his retreat.

Hermione moved quickly, sinking to her knees in the snow, and her hands thrust into the cold searching for where the vial had fallen. "Don't listen Remus!"

" _I know your fears…they are all true… You are right to doubt your friends' love for you…"_

"Fuck, fuck! SIRIUS HELP ME!" Hermione shouted, frantically crawling across the ground, snow wetting her jeans as she scrambled to clear away the thick blanket and locate the venom.

Remus shook his head, his hand lifting to pull the mustard yellow knit cap off his head so he could ruffle his sandy blonde hair. "Y-You're wrong," he told the locket, his voice quivering.

Out of the locket a large iridescent cloud began to bloom, filling the air above the birdbath and although smokey, images of Sirius and James emerged, but instead of their usual grins, hard sneers were over their face.

" _You're a monster, Remus,"_ the James figure snapped, hazel eyes casting a hateful look down at Remus.

" _I would never love someone like you… you're disgusting,"_ the Sirius figured added with a hollow laugh.

The real Sirius had launched himself on the ground next to Hermione, frantically digging through the snow. "Don't listen, Moony. You know that's a fucking lie!"

"S-Shut up!" Remus stammered angrily as tears began to spring to his eyes, watching as the hazy images of his best friends continued to look at him like so many others did. Like he was dirty...filthy. Like the fucking monster he was.

Hermione looked up, watching as Remus began to crumble, visibly wilting as the images of Sirius and James continued to taunt him, telling him things the werewolf had likely feared for forever.

" _You were never our friend. It was a lie… we would never allow you to actually be in our circle."_

" _You're disgusting. You should be locked away, you monster. No one would ever love you."_

"REG!" Sirius snapped, head whipping up to his brother. "Fucking DO SOMETHING!"

Regulus jumped at his name being called, as if pulled from a trance, and he looked over to Remus. "Do something?... Right. Do something." Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the patch of snow-covered lawn Sirius and Hermione were searching and with a complicated little wave hot air blasted from the tip of his wand.

The snow began to melt instantly, leaving puddles of water on the winter dead grass that were soaking into the knees and cuffs of Sirius and Hermione's clothing, but the spell did the trick, for there, less than a foot in front of Hermione's left hand lay the vial.

She moved quickly, snatching it from the grass before she grabbed the lip of the bird bath and pulled herself up just in time to watch the images of Sirius and Remus morph into an absolutely terrifying image of Walburga Black in a high collared Victorian dress. Hard gray eyes pierced straight into the soul of her youngest son.

" _You're nothing but a disappointment, Regulus. You were always a weak little boy… nothing has changed,"_ sneered the distorted image of Walburga across the lawn, looking disgustedly down the hook of her nose at him.

Sirius froze, the sound of his mother's crisp voice inciting a sense of dread he had not felt since he had left home at sixteen. His mouth instantly went dry, and he looked up from the ground to the ghostly image.

Hermione began to pick at the wax seal, cursing under her breath as her fingernails slipped due to the water droplets that clung to the surface. She cast a quick glance to the locket, watching at the pair of eyes swirled around, as if having trouble fixating on who to target next and suddenly they were on her.

The disapproving stare of Walburga shimmered into the mist and just as the outline of an all too familiar friend began to appear, she did the only thing she could think of to stop it. The vial in her palm, she lifted her hand back, almost up to her shoulder before thrusting it down to the cement basin with all her force, and then stopped her hand just before the surface but let the vial slam into the bird bath. It shattered instantly, the sound amplified due to the dark magic lingering in the air, and the black venom that had been held within the glass walls spread out over the two pieces of jewelry. They both began to sizzle, smoke emitting from the bird basin as the black liquid coated the jewelry, and the hissing voice that had taunted them moments ago was replaced by an ear piercing scream that rattled the cottage windows.

Suddenly, like a vortex, the air around them began to suck inward toward the basin and the foggy image that had been her best friend changed and twisted until a handsome dark haired man in a three piece suit stood, his hands clutching the side of his face as his face twisted in indescribable anguish. When his eyes opened, they were the same pair of dark brown that had laid in the locket. Hermione gasped, backing up quickly from the bird bath despite the physical pull that was drawing everything to it. That was… Voldemort-no Tom. He was so different than when she had seen him last. Lost was the boyish charm and cleverness of youth and before her was a man. So this is what he looked like before his rebirth. He was handsome, surprisingly so, but his eyes. They are the windows to the soul, or so Shakespeare had proclaimed so long ago. And if that was true, it would explain why his were so powerfully dark. Her heart thumped violently when his gaze found hers, all knowing and seeing; the violence they possessed cut straight through her and fear began to invade her bones.

And just as quickly as he appeared, the image was swallowed up in a growing cloud of fog that had pulled toward the bird bath, and with the last final push of magic, the ring and locket expelled everything it had drawn near with a gale wind that knocked all present off of their feet. A loud boom of an explosion echoed around them and the bird bath that had been hastily repaired cracked down the center once more, except this time nothing of the horcrux remained. Instead, the dripping pool of black venom began to trickle down the remains, sizzling the stone in its path.

"Everyone alright?" Sirius was the first to speak, sitting up from his prone position in the snow several yards closer to the house than the rest. He glanced around to the group, listening for the chorus of 'yes' to follow before his hands rose to his face, rubbing against his frost-bitten cheeks. Hermione had said this was supposed to get easier, but from his perspective he thought this one was worse than before! "Who the bloody hell was that?"

Regulus sat up next, his once carefully combed hair a mess and his caped coat covered in snow. "The Dark Lord," he explained, glancing over to Hermione who was sitting up too, her hands brushing the puffy snow from the shoulders of her coat and curls. "Hermione… What the bloody fuck was in that vial?"

"That is a very good fucking question," Remus added, pushing up out of the snow. His hand rose, brushing away the last remains of the stubborn tears that had fallen as he moved over towards Hermione and held out his hand for her as he sniffled.

Hermione took Remus' outstretched hand with a quiet thank you before she glanced over at the broken bird bath. "Manticore venom," she replied plainly, brushing some of the snow off of the back of her jeans.

"M-Manticore venom!?" Remus repeated; his voice cracked as his jade green eyes went wide as he watched her. He had just been walking around with manticore venom in his bloody pocket and she didn't feel the fucking need to inform him of this?!

"Yeah. I owl'd Hagrid about a week ago to see if he could get it. It's not nearly as difficult as the basilisk fang, which was quite surprising. In my time there is really a considerable amount of regulation over ingredients that could injure the purchaser," she began to explain, glancing over to Remus who seemed to to be growing more and more astonished at her words. "What? You're fine. I took precautio-AHH!"

Remus reached over with both hands, giving the witch he had just helped up a rough shove so she fell backwards once more into the snow. "You bloody imbecile! I could have knocked the seal loose!" Remus shouted, his lips thinning as he watched her fall back in the snow more shell-shocked than she had been only seconds ago. When he heard Sirius shout his name disapprovingly and begin to scrambled across the yard, Remus lifted his hand to silent the reprimands. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm going home," he announced before spinning on his heel and beginning to march through the snow towards the apparition point in front of the house. "Fuck these…these Horcruxes! It's cold and too god damn early to be dealing with this sort of bullshit," he grumbled.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, taking the grumpiness of Remus as a good sign and that the lies that the locket had tried to weave into truths had fallen on deaf ears. She accepted Sirius's help up off the snow covered ground and let him brush the flakes that clung to her curls. She watched as Regulus followed after Remus, purposefully averting his gaze away from the couple as Sirius secured an arm around her waist.

"Sorry about that," Sirius apologized, his fingers smoothing some of the frizz on the back of her head flat. "He's always a bit moody after a full moon."

"You don't need to apologize for him… Remus is fine. Hell I'd probably be angry too," she admitted with a small smirk.

Sirius dropped his hand to meet his other behind her waist, gray eyes twinkling in the soft morning light as he looked down at her. The bruises that marred her face were gone, and now the only thing on her skin was the pink glow of frostbite from the snowfall they stood in. He was glad to see her like this, looking whole and strong again instead of so fragile. "So… what's next then, Little bird?"

That was the question of the hour, wasn't it? What _was_ next. With two more Horcruxes gone, it would mean that there were only two left. One of which she knew lay safely inside the Hogwarts castle walls, and the other could be a number of places. The cup, that damn silver cup that had given her so much trouble the first time around. Next to its name in her notebook was a large ominous question mark, because it could be a number of places at this point in time. Did it lay in the Lestrange family vault like before, or perhaps in their home awaiting transfer? The exact details about its creation were unknown, for good reason, and therefore tracking it was particularly difficult this time around. For as carefully planned as she had been this time around, that was the one part of this mission that had still eluded her. Weighing her options inside her mind, she pressed her lips together in thought before releasing them with a small pop. "Well… I suppose it's probably time we go pay Dumbledore a visit."

Sirius' soft grin began to split into a wide mischievous smile at mention of returning to the castle that had held so many fond memories of his youth. It had been ages since he set foot in the drafty halls of the school and part of him was excited to show her the secret passages and rooms he was positive she knew nothing about. "So, we're going to Hogwarts?" he confirmed and when Hermione gave him a nod in confirmation, a crow like laugh let his lips. "Brilliant… Minnie will be thrilled to see us!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super excited to announce Right the First Time got runner up in the best time turner category in Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook's Summer awards. thank you all for the votes!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!


	46. Yule Tide Greetings

**December 25th, 1979 - 20:14 - Little Hangleton**

The ambient noise of crickets chirping, wild boars rustling through the snow in search of food, and dormice scurrying across the forest floor surrounded the decaying Gaunt Shack in Little Hangleton. It had been nearly twenty days since the last set of visitors graced the hovel, and nearly a decade since a member of the once-noble House paid a visit. The hole in the roof had grown, the weight of fresh blankets of snow bending the rotting wood to its will and collapsing in on itself. The frame still remained, with thick vines of Devil's Snare holding it aloft in the darkness of the canopy of trees.

A loud crack of magic cut through the soft forest sounds, followed by another. The force of the magic sent the trees a flutter. The sleeping birds stirred to life in protest of being awoken and suddenly everything fell silent. No chirps, no rustling, not a single noise except for the two unwelcome visitors. Through the thick brush several pairs of glowing eyes watched as two figures moved down a snow-covered, well worn path towards the cottage.

"M-Master. Please, let me light the way!" Peter's quivering voice begged as he withdrew his wand and held it aloft as he hurried to keep up with his master's long assured stride. " _Lumos!"_ A white light burst from the tip of his wand, casting a fierce glow across the snow, making it sparkle like thousands of diamonds around them.

"Extinguish that light!" Voldemort hissed, his white Yew wand slicing through the air to point at the man who had run after him like a little lost puppy. " _Expelliarmus!_ " The scarlet light shot through the air, sending Peter's wand flying off into a bank in the snow. "I've told you Wormtail. We are to remain unseen."

Peter cowered, instantly shrinking back as Voldemort's chest puffed with unbidden rage, his eyes casting down to the snow at his feet. "I am sorry… I was simply trying to hel-"

"Your job is to accompany me for identification purposes. Do not think, do not speak, do not cast a single enchantment without my permission." Voldemort's words were crisp, each blow driving a deeper wound into the now trembling Peter who only nodded his head silently. Seemingly satisfied with the response, he spun on his heel. The set of thick black robes swirled around him as he began down the familiar path once more, his dragon hide loafers sinking into the snow.

Peter watched, not daring to move until his master was two paces in front of him before he dared to dart to the left to retrieve his fallen wand from the snow. Pulling open his wool trench coat, the Chestnut wand was placed in the inside pocket, his fingers triple checking it was secure in place before he moved after his master, careful to leave a buffer of space between them as he knew the Dark Lord required.

Voldemort's sneer grew as he approached the family home, brown eyes peering through the darkness at the rotting structure with a disdain that he had carried since childhood. His hatred was not for the structure of course, but rather what it represented. Weakness. A once ancient and noble house descended to living like peasants. They were descendents of Salazar! And yet this had befallen them. Penniless, without a proper heir and most importantly, extinct. The Gaunt name had died with his uncle and grandfather. At one time he had humored restoring it, but meeting them, witnessing their overindulgence and the way it lead them into a life of squalor... He was happy to rid the world of weak magic like theirs. They were no different than those who felt sympathy for Muggles, or beasts. They were the scum on the bottom of his shoe and held no place in this new world he was creating.

His lips thinned as he approached the crumbling cottage. Someone had been here. The house was in far worse shape than before, but most importantly, he knew the the ring was gone. He could no longer feel its presence, pulsing inside him like a faded wound. At first he thought himself succumbing to madness when he felt a similar life force vanish months ago. He checked on all of them, or rather nearly all. He was not allowed to grace the halls of Hogwarts, not with that old pathetic excuse for a Headmaster keeping a watchful eye on it. But he'd checked the ring, the locket and his chalice. All of which were safely hidden. Lucius had assured him the diary was safe within the Manor walls, and he had no reason to doubt the truth and loyalty of one of his closest advisers. He had concluded at the time that it was the result of the magic. The longer the dark magic divided his soul, the most apart he felt from it. But then the feeling occurred again. The stab of death. The feeling of part of him slipping away.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to tell himself it was nothing, but he knew better. He knew someone had found out his secret. Albus suspected, but never confirmed the existence. Which meant the only logical explanation was the little worm of a man who followed him now must have told his friends. He'd betrayed his closest companions once already; what was preventing Wormtail from doing the same to him? This idea had plagued his thoughts for weeks now, but he needed proof. He needed concrete evidence that Wormtail had defected, which was exactly what he planned on collecting this very night.

He lifted his thin white wand towards the house's crumbling frame. " _Appare vestigium!"_ A swirl of gold poured from the tip of his wand. It shimmered in the moonlight, twinkling like the wings of a snitch as the magick slipped between the gaps in the house's siding and through the holes in the broken windows before it seeped from the seams in the foundations and began across the snow covered ground and sank under the snow.

From behind the pair, the shimmery image of a wizard he knew to be Regulus' brother appeared with the faint outline of a curly haired witch in front of him, her face blurred more than his, but the outline of her features visible. Voldemort turned, looking over his shoulder as he watched the pair move through the night, his fingers curled tightly around his wand as the rage inside him began to build higher.

Peter whimpered, sensing the displeasure his master felt and he took a careful step backwards. "M-Master...This-"

"SILENCE!"

As the pair neared the house, Voldemort glided out of the way, as not to disrupt their path before the path disappeared, their figures disintegrating in a shimmer of gold dust that fell atop the snow covered steps leading up into the house.

They had gone inside. That could only mean one thing. They took it… They took the ring! His heart thundered violently beneath his chest and Voldemort moved up the steps of the house. His loafers kicked the snow as his gloved hand curled around the door handle, and he tugged to open it, but found it jammed. The weight of the crooked foundation prevented his entry. Brown eyes lifted, assessing the structure frantically. If he blasted his way in the whole thing would crumble, and with it the magick would end. He needed it intact. At least until he was done.

Moving off the steps he began around the back of the house, hands shoving low-hanging branches out of the way until he found an opening he could slip through in the kitchen. It was barely wide enough for him to fit through, but it would make do for now. Forcing his wide-set shoulder through the narrow opening, he heard his cloak rip on a loose nail that hung and the bite of the rusty metal dug into the skin of his back but he paid no heed to the sharp pain as he pushed into the house.

Through the holes in the wall between the kitchen and living room, he could make out images of the pair as they fluttered around the room, struggling against an invisible monster he guessed to be the Devil's Snare that lay beneath the baseboards and clung to the remaining walls, enjoying the reprieve from the sunlight that winter night's brought. He watched the girl, the curly haired unnamed witch as she fought against the snare, kicking violently as she was dragged towards a large hole in the floorboards.

Voldemort moved over the fallen cabinets and appliances, nearly losing his footing once or twice with a mis-timed step as he fought through the destruction into the living room just in time to watch the Black boy curl his arm around the small witch with the box tucked safely between them. He saw red, his blood boiling in the inferno of rage that consumed his entire being. He told…Wormtail TOLD!

Voldemort turned quickly, his wand already raised at the weak wizard who followed, his hand trembling from the unexpected fury. "You told them," he grit out through clenched teeth.

"Master… no. I did… I did not!" Peter squeaked, his mitten covered hands lifting in surrender, brown eyes going wide with fear as he sunk to his knees. "I would never."

"YOU'RE LYING!" His voice echoed off of the tree tops around them, amplifying with a reckless accidental magic. "That was your friend, Wormtail."

"No… No. That is not! S-Sirius i-isn't my fr-friend!"

"Who was he with?" Voldemort questioned as he began to advance on Peter, who seemed frozen under the wand point. "Who was the girl?"

"T-The girl?" Peter croaked, gulping down the urge to vomit. "I-I don't-"

"WHAT IS HER NAME!?"

"Hermione! Hermione Granger!" Peter answered, his eyes dropping to the floorboards as he winced. Praying that answering might be enough to satisfy the Dark Lord.

Hermione… Hermione… The name swirled inside his mind. Granger was not a surname he was familiar with. It was not magical in origin, but rather plain… ordinary. Like Riddle. Like the worst half of the blood than ran through his own veins. His upper lip pulled back in a sneer at the thought. A Mudblood. Worse than the weak wizard or witch. The magic-stealing succubus had taken the opportunity for greatness away from a more deserving person, and was using these powers to defy him?! And with the help of Walburga and Orion's eldest? They would all be dealt with. They would all have a price to pay for their misgivings, but first he needed to deal with the problem groveling at his feet.

Without any further hesitation, the Unforgivable spell fell from his lips and the bright green light illuminated the room, masking the soft twinkling glow of the gold spellwork that clung to the house, and a lifeless Peter fell to the floor with a thud. The tears he had been crying clung to his rosy cheeks, and the soft matte of mousy brown hair stuck to his sweat-stricken forehead as he rolled on top of his master's loafers.

Voldemort kicked at the body in disgust, as one would at an infected stray dog. Lifting the sleeve of his robe, he removed his cufflink and pocketed the jewelry before rolling up the sleeve of his gray button-down. Once the inky black mark was visible, he pressed the tip of his wand onto the skull. "Severus…Lucius…Antonin."

Within moments the crack of three different Apparitions broke through the eerie silence, each summoned man landing inside the decaying home. Voldemort placed his wand into the inside pocket of his robes before he began to unroll his cuff, dark eyes not yet lifting to his followers as he stepped around the corpse of his most recent follower. "Lucius… Antonin…" he began as he straightened out his clothing, a careful mask of apathy hiding what he had felt moments earlier and masking what his intentions were. "Make sure Dumbledore receives this-" his eyes flicked over to Peter. "-and make sure he knows who gifted it to him."

Taking their command without question, the pair moved forward, Antonin heaving the fresh corpse from the broken floor over his shoulder before turning to Lucius and they Disapparated.

Voldemort looked around the room, cold brown eyes watching as the golden magic began to evaporate like mist into the night sky. "Severus." His voice was flat, giving no emotion as he spoke to his most loyal servant.

"Yes, My Lord?" Severus replied, black eyes watching as the fearsome wizard as he began to approach, causing the slow dripping fear of had just happened in this very room to run the length of his spine. Did he know of Severus' own change of heart? Was that why he call for him? Severus's hands clasped each other in front of his waist, as he took a slow quiet breath, taking the opportunity to clear his mind and project empty thoughts at the wizard.

Voldemort looked at Severus from head to toe, watching the cooled exterior, noting that he held no tremble like the others did. Severus did not fear him. Something that unnerved him, yet made him wish to keep the wizard close. He needed more people like him in his ranks, close to him. Allies in his fight for greatness. And certainly not someone who would betray him. "Tell me, my friend..…what do you know of a witch named Hermione Granger?"

* * *

**December 25th, 1979 - 19:28 - Godric's Hollow**

Sirius sat on the floor next to the twinkling pine tree. A Santa hat sat crooked atop of his head, the white fur a stark contrast to the growing black hair that was now reaching the tops of his shoulders. He had been nominated as the designated present passer-outer by the overly full group of friends who were huddled in the small living room. Lily had outdone herself, as usual, and perfected her Christmas Roast recipe from last year. Hermione had shown up hours earlier to help prepare the extravagant menu. Under normal circumstances she tended to stay far away from the kitchen, but Sirius sensed the early arrival was due to some holiday blues. Her nightmares had returned, and this time they seemed to awaken something inside her that he had not seen before. When pressed, the only answer she gave was that she missed Harry.

He wasn't sure if he should be jealous or frustrated at the idea of his girlfriend longing for another man, but then he remembered she was technically living in a flat with his ex, a werewolf who he still maintained an impossibly close friendship with, and never once complained. So while he tucked the ugly green-headed monster back in its cage, he was forced to admit that once again, she was too fucking good for him. She took so much, acted selflessly and was hurting, all the while he debated if he needed to worry about Hermione's future-past self and how Harry came into play.

Reaching under the low hanging branches of the tree, Sirius withdrew a small brightly wrapped package about the size of a Quaffle. Nimble fingers lifted the box, peaking at the name tag hidden underneath. "Let's see… Moony. Heads up mate," Sirius called across the room to the werewolf who was lying prone across the couch with his head in Hermione's lap.

"Me?" Remus frowned, glancing around the room to his friends who only seemed to shrug in response. It was well known that Remus did not participate in the gift giving ritual. Too many bad memories had been associated with this time of year for him- his mum dying, the attack by Fenrir, and his dad's drinking always got worse in the winter. He never wanted to celebrate by exchanging things during the season, but did not have the heart to turn down Lily's offer of a friends feast, so every year he came along and sat quietly aside watching the group open their things.

"That's what it says. R-E-M-U-S," Sirius tossed the package across the room towards his friend.

Jade green eyes lifted to the witch whose lap he lay in and he narrowed them slightly at her. "You…"

Hermione feigned innocence, lifting the palm that had been holding her chin up. "What?"

"I told you no gifts. Explicitly!"

"How do you know it was me? It could have been anyone in this room," Hermione defended.

"Because Prongs or Pads wouldn't write Remus," he began as he pushed himself up onto his elbows to peer down at the box that was now resting in his lap. "And Lily is not stubborn enough to do it despite my request not to."

Hermione scoffed as she rolled her eyes and looked across the room to the redheaded witch who was perched on the arm of the chair James sat in. When all she got was an innocent shrug and nod of the head in agreement from her, Hermione rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

"Well I'm not opening it. You can take it back," Remus said flatly before he palmed the package and swung his legs to the floor so he could set it in Hermione's lap.

"Take it ba- What? No! It's a gift!" Hermione protested immediately, reaching out to stop him from putting the present in her lap. "I got it… especially for you. So stop being a bloody baby and open the damn thing."

"But I don't want it!"

"Well, frankly, I don't care what you want," Hermione stood up quickly, evading Remus' second attempt at shoving it back towards her, and she skirted around the coffee table to make her way to the Christmas tree. "It's not about if you want something or not… I enjoy giving gifts, so you're going to accept it…and if I may be so bold, you're going to love it," she told the werewolf with a pointed finger before turning on her heel, and she snatched the Santa hat from a top Sirius head before pulling it over the top of her curls. "I'm going to be Santa now, so off you get."

Sirius, who had watched the whole ordeal with silent laughter, let loose a small string of booming laughs as he rose from the ground, his hand swatting at Hermione's jean-clad backside before he glanced over to the very unamused Remus. "I fucking love it when she's bossy," he admitted, as though no one in the room knew full well the extent of how enamored he was with his girlfriend. Plopping down on the couch in the space Hermione had just vacated, Sirius kicked his foot up on the coffee table and turned his attention away from his witch, who was shuffling around in the tree to hand out more presents, and let his gray eyes fall on the grumbly Remus. "Well…open it."

"Yeah. Seeing as she won't take no for an answer, you might as well find out what you'll be burning before lighting it on fire," James added from across the room before wincing when Lily gave him a rough elbow to the side of his ribs.

"You won't burn it… Will you, Remus?" Lily questioned, emerald eyes widening with a silent warning across the room at the werewolf who quickly averted his gaze.

"...No… maybe… fuck," Remus breathed before ripping the bow off the oversized gold box, and he reached across the couch to slap it atop Sirius's head before he carefully unwrapped the colorful paper around the box, making sure to take his time because he knew everyone was watching, waiting to gage his reaction.

Underneath the paper was a plain colored box, sealed with a small scrap of tape. After carefully running his nail across the tape to break the seal he opened the container and his brows lifted as he looked down inside before up to Hermione who had paused handing out presents to watch him with a knowing smile. "...I hate you."

"I love you too, Remus," Hermione replied back with a triumphant smirk, watching as Remus withdrew an earth tones knit cap and tugged it on top of his head without another word. A week prior, while out in Muggle London, Hermione and Remus were browsing a small boutique for gifts. This was the same day she had heard about his no gift giving rule, but this was also the same day she had watched him come back to the same damn bin with knit caps, his fingers running across the soft fabric that she knew reminded him of the now beloved sweater he often wore. She knew she shouldn't, mainly because he would act like this. But on the other hand, she knew it was something Remus would never dare buy for himself because money had been tight for him since losing his job in September due to increased Werewolf regulations. "Happy Christmas."

Remus ran his hand over the top of the knit cap, letting the soft yarn slide beneath his fingertips, and he tugged it further down on the back of his neck, adjusting the fit until it felt just right. "Yeah, yeah...whatever."

Sirius was leaning against the arm of the sofa, his hand smothering his smile as he watched the werewolf give Hermione the slightest hint of a grin. Merlin's pants, she had really managed to weasel her way into his heart as well. He really ought to not be so surprised, based on the amount of time they were all spending together, but it still shocked him because of their rocky beginnings.

"Alright, _Santa_ ," James interrupted the moment, straightening up in the armchair. "I think I might see one under there labeled for the most beautiful thing in this room."

"Aw… James. You shouldn't have!" Sirius batted his eyelashes across the room at the bespeckled wizard who snorted in laughter.

"Most beautiful _woman_ in this room," James corrected, shaking his head with laughter. "But don't worry darling. You got something under there from me too," he added for good measure before playfully blowing Sirius a kiss.

Hermione lifted her hand to her forehead, her fingers rubbing across her brow as she watched the two. "Merlin, do they do this often?" she questioned, watching as Sirius returned the sentiment to his friend before she looked over at Lily with a cocked brow.

"It's gotten better over the years," the redhead admitted with a defeated sigh. "Don't you remember them at Hogwarts? I'm fairly certain most people thought they might be more than friends, if you catch my drift."

Hermione glanced over to Sirius to share a sly smile with him. "Yeah… Hogwarts," she said with a nod before looking over to the decorated pine tree. It was best to avoid that topic whenever possible, seeing as her excuses for not being noticed by Lily nor James were flimsy at best, but part of her craved to know more about their time in school together. Maybe once this was all done...Once she was back in her time with the four of them alive she could get the details of their school-aged years together. For now she had to be okay with the subtle hints left by reminiscing friends. "Alright. Present for Lily. How big are we talking?" Hermione questioned as she squatted down beside the tree, carefully pulling out brightly wrapped packages and checking name tags.

"It's gold...with a red bow," James instructed, sitting up higher in the armchair to try to get a better vantage point on the presents Hermione was sifting through.

"Gold with a bow?" Lily repeated, frowning as she looked down at her husband. "We don't have any gold wrapping paper."

"Hush. Just wait," James instructed his wife with a wave of his hand. "No, Hermione… no, not that one…Oh! There!"

Hermione plucked the small box from where it lay at the back of the pile against the wall. It was tiny, no bigger than the size of her palm, and light. Almost featherlike. Whatever was inside either had a charm on it, or was not very big. Pushing up off the floor she crossed the room and held out the present for her friend with a curious expression.

Lily took the small box, her lips pursing to the sides as she eyed it carefully before looking down at James. "If this is another gag-gift from Zonko's…" she warned. When James made no attempt to snatch back the gift, she unwound the bow from around the box and carefully opened it. "...James!" she gasped at whatever lay inside and slapped her hand over the top in an attempt to hide the contents from everyone else in the room who was keen on watching her open the present. "We're not supposed to tell yet!"

"I know… I know, but-" James reached out, his hands slowly peeling hers away from the box. "- I can't help it. They should know."

"We should know what?" Remus asked, his head cocking to the side.

"But I'm not…" Lily glanced around the room, looking back at her husband with wide eyes and she leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"It'll be fine. Just… just show them. Yeah?" James begged, large hazel eyes shining at his wife sweetly.

Years ago she might be able to ignore the puppy dog stare he gave her. Years ago she would have told him off and left the room. But now? Now she couldn't help but cave. With a heavy breath, she looked down at the box that was held protectively to her chest around the room. Her eyes landing on each friend who waited with silent curiosity. "Alright, but… you cannot say anything yet… Not to anyone."

"Who the bloody hell would we tell?" Sirius questioned. "Everyone I talk to on a regular basis is in this room."

Rolling her eyes, Lily reached into the box and withdrew a tiny pair of knit booties. They were crimson with gold trim, and small purple tag on the back let her know they had been purchased at Weasley's Wooly Wonders. She held up, emerald eyes shimmering with happiness despite the shy smile she wore.

Hermione gasped, her hand going to her lips. Of course she knew the news had to be coming soon, seeing as Harry's birthday was only eight months away, but it still brought a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her friend was pregnant, bringing life into this dark time, and what made it better was that she knew in the future the little growing bundle in her belly would grow up to become her closest companion. Her best friend. "Oh Lily!"

Lily set the booties in James's lap as she rose from the air and into the opened arms of the witch she had begun to think of as another member of their makeshift family. Her arms wrapped around Hermione's neck as tears pricked her eyes.

"This is wonderful, Lily!" Hermione whispered, her hands holding the slender redhead in a fierce hug.

Sirius had moved to clap James on the back in congratulations before ruffling the messy black hair of his friend playfully. "You finally did it. You made it so she'll never leave," he joked, wincing when Lily blindly swatted behind her and connected with the side of his neck.

"For the record," Remus piped up from behind Sirius. "I don't do nappies."

James laughed, fingers pushing his thick framed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Noted, mate."

"How far along are you?" Hermione questioned, carefully unwinding her arms from around her friend before moving to give James a congratulatory kiss on the top of his head with a side hug.

"Not very far. The Med-Witch thinks about nine weeks or so. She was just able to pick up the heartbeat at the second appointment," Lily explained. "We _were_ supposed to wait given the all-clear on the baby's health to tell anyone."

"It'll be fine," James assured his wife. "Potter genes are strong. It'll be born healthy."

"You don't know that, James," Lily scoffed. "My mother had complications. Even your mother did, remember?"

"When is the all-clear?" Sirius questioned curiously. "Can't be that far away."

"Twenty weeks," Lily moved back over to the armchair, sitting down next to her husband so he could loop his arm around her waist. "So eleven more."

"Twenty weeks?" Hermione questioned in disbelief. Medicine had certainly come a long way in her time. The viability of pregnancies could be determined as early as five weeks with a spell and potion. "Wow… that's quite a while. Although, I am inclined to agree with James this time. You'll be fine."

"Yeah. He'll be perfectly fine," Sirius agreed, laying a hand on Lily's shoulder with a reassuring half smile.

"Or she!" Lily's hand dropped to cradle her non-existent belly. "We don't know yet…if it's a boy or girl."

"Oh, it's a boy," Remus mumbled from across the living room where he had returned to his seat after giving James a hug.

"How are you so certain?" Lily questioned, lifting a thin red brow at the werewolf.

"I...just am," Remus lied, glancing over to Hermione, who had her back turned to Lily and James giving her the opportunity to shoot invisible daggers at him. "It's a werewolf thing… I can smell it?"

"I knew it!" James shouted, a bit louder than intended and jumped from the chair nearly knocking his wife onto the floor. "A boy...This is absolutely fantastic. We're going to teach him how to climb trees, and spin garden gnomes, and Quidditch!"

"James… I think Remus was just-" Lily tried to reason.

Hermione looked over her shoulder to James, watching as he continued to list off the possibilities of what he could teach his son. "James, I think you really ought to-"

"And he's going to learn to pee outside in the snow. Write his name with it even. That's always fun. Oh! His name! We're naming him after my Da. Fleamont Potter!"

"Oh, Merlin. Prongs, mate… I'm not so sure about that name," Sirius tried to help.

"James… JAMES!" Lily shouted, her arms crossing over her bust when her husband finally snapped out of his excitement and turned to her. "Number one, Remus has no bloody way of knowing if this baby will be male, or female. Number two, if...again, IF, this baby is a boy, we are absolutely not naming him Fleamont. I love your father, but I am certain he would agree with me that it is not a proper name for a little boy."

James's brows lifted from behind his glasses, wrinkling his forehead as a crestfallen expression washed upen his features, and just as he began to argue his point of why Fleamont would be the most ideal name for any offspring, regardless of gender, a white shimmery image of a brown tabby cat bounded into the living room and landed on the coffee table in the middle of the group of friends.

The cat looked around, unblinking, at the group of surprised friends. "Potter, come quick-" The cat's mouth opened to reveal the familiar Scottish accent of their beloved Transfiguration Professor. "-It's Peter!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello. Hope you are all still enjoying this story. That being said I am having surgery next week on the 11th. I will try to return updating this story as soon as possible.
> 
> Many thanks to KnitKnitRead who is my alpha extraordinaire. She helps me endlessly and has really helped me develop so many things within the universe this story is set in. Islandgurl777, you are fucking amazing. She makes it look like I have my shit together, truly. You both are rock stars. xx


	47. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

**December 25th, 1979 - 21:14 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

The walk between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts had never felt longer than it did right then. Even with the brisk pace set by James, who had marched ahead of the gaggle of friends with his wand aloft, the bright glow of lumos illuminating the well-worn path that crunched beneath their heavy footsteps. Hermione lingered at the back of the pack, her hand laced with Lily's who looked even paler than normal. It if weren't for the pink bite of frost at her cheeks and nose the witch would have been near ghostlike. There was no explanation needed from McGonagall's patronus to know that her summoning on behalf of Peter was not one of joyus news. "It'll be okay." She whispered the lie to the witch, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Lily's nod was delayed, as if trying to convince herself that what Hermione said was the truth, but as the group crested the small foothill that would bring the castle into view, the dark imagery that completely eliminated any small sliver of hope that news of their longtime friend vanished with a collective gasp.

In the night sky shimmering above the Quidditch Pitch like a set of smokey emerald stars was the Morsmordre, etched against the inky blackness of the highland's sky. The snake wound from the skull's mouth, coiling in delight. Hermione knew Peter's fate was his own, but the weight of what it meant to his friends pained her. She felt Lily stumble beside her at the top of the hill and she grabbed her friend supportively. "Don't look at it."

James stood still, frozen atop the hill, as if paralyzed under the dark eyes the skull in the sky held before he snapped back to life and took off down the foothill at a breakneck speed towards the pitch. No word was given to his friends before he took off running, for nothing needed to be said. They all knew too well what that symbol meant.

"Fuck," Sirius muttered, gulping down the mixed emotions that swirled like a storm inside his soul. Peter was not the friend he knew from his youth, but he was still loved the same. Even after Hermione spoke of his betrayal, part of him had hoped he would have been able to save him. To bring him back to the light and out of the murky darkness that had taken hold of him. But it was all too late. Peter was gone, in more than once sense of the word. Glancing over his shoulder towards Hermione and Lily, he waited for Hermione to give him a nod, a silent 'go' before he reached out to nudge Remus who was next to him on the hill before nodding towards James who was already making a beeline off the path, skirting the edge of the Forbidden Forest towards the closest entrance to the pitch.

The pair took off, moving quickly after James. The tips of their wands bobbed in the darkness as they ran away from where Hermione stood, clutching Lily who had turned into her for support. Hermione felt as hot tears began to leak from the witch's eyes, scalding her skin as they leaked down the collar of her parka against her neck. "I'm so sorry, Lily… I'm so ...so sorry." Her words were not lies. Even if she held mixed feelings about Peter, the apology to her hurting friend rang true. She was sorry. She was sorry for the all too familiar sting of losing someone close. The way it felt physically painful. Like a barbed hook that embedded into your skin so deep, that no matter how many times you batted at it, trying to pull it free for just a single moment of relief from the consuming anguish, it dug deeper. Working its hooks further into your body until all you could think about was it because all that seemed to make sense anymore was the pain. That is what it had felt like when she had lost Arthur, and in the process Ron and Ginny, and now her friends-Lily, James, Remus and Sirius- were going to battle those same disgustingly painful emotions.

Hermione's hand lifted to rest against the back of Lily's head, smoothing her hair down as she held her closer, fighting back her own tears now that threatened to spill over. She was not going to mourn Peter. A man who had, in her timeline, not only betrayed the woman in her arms but was an active participant in trying to kill Harry and her as well. A man who had assisted in her torture, a man who had killed an innocent boy just because he was in the wrong place, participating in that stupid fucking Triwizard Tournament alongside Harry. Peter, in her timeline, held zero cause for the tears that slipped down her cheeks. Her tears were for Lily, who wept at loss of her friend. They were for James, whose own mournful cries had begun to echo around them from down in the pitch. They were for Sirius and Remus, who knew the truth and would struggle to make sense how they should react.

Hermione remain still, her eyes shutting tight as she fought to remain composed as she held Lily. Taking a deep breath, she held it in her lungs until the burn for oxygen became overwhelming. She repeated the process several times, until an unsteady calm washed over her and she gently pushed Lily back so she could look at her. "Lily. We...We need to go down there," she told the witch softly. "James needs you."

Lily nodded, strands of red hair clinging to her wet cheeks. She knew what Hermione said was the truth, but the idea of walking to the pitch to find what she could only assume was the corpse of her friend was not an easy thing to convince your lead-heavy feet to move for. It took a moment, and under the careful instruction of Hermione, Lily was finally able to calm down enough to stop the sobs that had wracked her body. Her tears still fell, but this time in sorrowful silence as Hermione held her hand once more and guided her across the lawn towards the pitch.

As the pair moved past the Quidditch stands and towards the center of the snow covered lawn, the images of James, Sirius and Remus came into view. James was on his knees in the snow, his arms around the lifeless body of his friend as he cried, clutching the limp Peter towards him. His wand was lost in the snowdrift around him. Sirius and Remus stood beside him, embraced in a hug as they too shed tears, and just past them stood Minerva McGonagall, her salt and pepper hair falling down her back in soft waves, and only an emerald green robe thrown over her tartan nightgown. She looked pained, her dark eyes, which normally hid the emotions she felt, could not even mask the heartbreak she felt, watching as the boys she had looked after for so many years were torn to pieces by the loss of their own.

Hermione glanced over to Lily, whose pace had slowed to a crawl next to her and she gave her a mournful look before slowly letting go her hand and moving across the snow towards Sirius and Remus.

"Lily," the familiar scottish drawl of Minerva called over the cries, and she moved quickly towards the redheaded witch. "Come here, my dear."

Lily met Minerva halfway, her arms wrapping around her favorite Professor's middle and she fell into the supportive embrace that mirrored the kind a mother would give a crying child. She whispered softly into Lily's ear things Hermione could not hear, but it seemed to soothe the witch as she clung to McGonagall's robe for support. She had never seen McGonagall like this before. She had been supportive of Harry, Ron and herself, but kept a careful distance, as if to remind them all their relationship would always be that of educator and pupils. And it was in this moment Hermione realised why. She had lost much more than just students in the war. She had lost a group of children she had thought of as her own. She had mourned their losses like a parent would their children, and had constructed a set of rules to prevent herself from ever getting too close again.

Pulling her eyes away from Lily and McGonagall, Hermione moved towards Sirius and Remus. Reaching out she laid a hand on both of their shoulders comfortingly, as if to let them know she was there for them. Before she could pull away to give them space, she felt an arm wind around her waist and she looked down, surprised to see it belonged to the werewolf.

Remus pulled Hermione to them until his arm could fit snugly around her middle and he carefully stepped back to push her between them and into Sirius' arms. As much as he wanted to comfort his friend, he knew that what Sirius needed now more than anyone else was her. The witch who he used to hate for stealing his friend away from him, when the truth was she was making him a better person. She calmed the wild in Sirius's soul in a way Remus had only hoped he could, and there was no use in denying it any further. Slipping his hand from his friend's shoulder, Remus dislodged himself from Sirius's grasp and he backed up, the snow crunching beneath his boots. Jade green eyes twinkled with tears as he looked down to James and the lifeless body of Peter that lay in his lap. He was mad at Peter, pissed for so many reasons, but this was not right. This did not provide him any closure for the gaping wound in his heart. This was worse than knowing he betrayed them, because he would never get to ask why now. Reaching up, Remus tugged the knit cap further down on his head before he looked over to Minerva who was ushering Lily towards her husband. "Professor," Remus's voice was steady, providing a calm rational to the heavy emotion around them. "Let's get him inside before anyone else can see."

Minerva looked over at Remus and a curt nod was given. He always had been the most reasonable one of the group, and it seemed now, even when she let her emotions carry her away, Remus kept a level head. Lifting her fir wand into the sky, a soft enchantment was given and a burst of visible wind pushed from the tip into the sky, breaking the shimmering skull and spreading its emerald twinkles across the cosmos before turning towards James and she took slow steps towards the grieving wizard. "James, lay him down. I'll-"

"No!" James's voice was stern, but not bitter. Hazel eyes lifted to his former head of house, tears still spilling down his rosey cheeks. "No...I-I'll carry him." He sniffled, looking back down to his friend in his arms, gulping down another mournful sob before he nodded, as if reassuring himself this was the right thing to do. "I'll carry him.'

* * *

**December 26th, 1979 - 05:15 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Hermione walked the familiar halls of the fourth floor, brown eyes watching the pink dawn of a new day break from behind the stained glass windows that lined the corridor. McGonagall had set the friends up in a vacant professor's quarters on the first floor not far from her own after helping transfigure a table in the small kitchenette into a more suitable place to lay their dearly departed friend as they waited for word from Albus on what to do next. Minerva sat with them for several hours, ordering tea and biscuits from the House Elves and informing the staff that group of former students would be staying, at minimum, for the night and into the next day until Albus came back from holiday. They all knew there was no point in arguing with her, and truth be told, her commanding presence was almost welcomed at a time like this.

The bed was given to James and Lily, who found comfort in the soft sheets after their tears had dried. Sirius, Remus and Hermione stay awake a bit longer, using the time to talk in hushed tones about what Peter's death could possibly mean. Peter had died by his own hand during her first timeline many years from now, which begged into question what the hell had happened to cause it this time. Was Voldemort onto them or was it simply another Death Eater out for vengeance? Either way, these questions were not ones that could be answered in the early morning hours on little sleep. With Sirius's help, Hermione pushed together the overstuffed chairs against the far wall in the room and moved the various end tables and lamps out of the way before transfiguring the furniture in a makeshift bed. It was far from perfect, but would have to do for tonight.

Her sleep was restless, and by the time the clock on the mantle's chime pulled her from her slumber, she couldn't allow herself to fall back asleep. Giving her boyfriend a quick kiss on the forehead, Hermione slipped from the bed and grabbed her boots and a throw blanket off of a blanket rack in the corner before exiting the classroom. She needed to think, and being back inside these halls stirred a restlessness inside her she had not felt since youth.

It was no surprise that while lost in her own mind, Hermione found herself walking the familiar path through the sleepy castle towards Gryffindor tower, just as she had done for eight years. Pausing in the middle of the hall, Hermione knew that the further the ventured down the corridor, the reason for her early morning stroll would be harder to explain, for the only place one could go would be Gryffindor Tower. Instead she drew the blanket she had draped around her shoulders tight across her body before she leaned back on the stone wall, watching the sun rise.

"Is everything alright, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked down the end of the hallway, watching as the very put together figure of the Head of Gryffindor House came into view. Her tight bun, the sweeping emerald robes. The only difference between the Professor McGonagall of now and then seemed to be a few more sprinkles of gray hair and the deepening of the wrinkles around her eyes. "Quite. Thank you for your hospitality, Minerva."

"Of course, my dear. Anything for those boys." She spoke softly, the hint of sadness still lingering in her voice. "Are you lost? You seem to have ventured far from the first floor."

Hermione smirked, dropping her head to stare at the stone tiles beneath her toes to try and hide it. Lost? She had never felt more at home in a place before, but she wasn't supposed to, was she? She might have been able to fudge the truth about attending Hogwarts along side the Marauders but McGonagall would know immediately it was a lie, wouldn't she? "No... I was just admiring the view."

Minerva nodded, her eyes drifting over to the picturesque snowy sunrise that was illuminating the hall pink. "Such a pity it is wasted on the morning after tragedy."

Hermione nodded in agreement, before glancing up to her former-future Head of House, watching as the witch turned to face the window beside her in a comfortable silence.

"You know… Miss Granger," Minerva began slowly, her eyes still drawn to the snowy scene in front of her. "Hogwarts is a very peculiar castle. It has a way of leading those within its walls right to where they ought to go."

Hermione's brow furrowed and she looked around her curiously. The hall was empty, no student milling about and no doors leading to cupboards or classrooms. Right to where she ought to go? The only thing here was the staircase that would take her to towards Gryffindor Tower. She knew Minerva was aware of this. "I'm sorry… what do you mean?"

"What I mean is-" Minerva cast a careful glance out of the corner of her eye to the curly haired witch before looking forward once again. "-that you are in this corridor because only a Gryffindor would always return to their common room in times of need. Regardless of how old old… or young they might be. Even if they were...perhaps visiting from a different time."

Hermione looked taken aback, her eyes widening. "W-What?! How…who-"

"Albus's secrets are not always his own, Miss Granger. You might do well to remember that aging wizards, although trustworthy, often break confidence with the best intentions," Minerva explained coyly, her hands smoothing out her robes carefully before she turned to peer down her nose at the witch, dark eyes glinting behind her spectacles. "I understand you wrote Albus weeks ago, asking admittance to the castle in search of something you could not name in writing."

Hermione nodded, finding herself incapable of uttering a single noise as her brain fired on all cylinders to try and catch up to what the older witch was telling her. She knew. She fucking knew Hermione was not from here! Better yet, Dumbledore had informed her! What else did the witch know?! What other secrets of Albus's did she keep?

"He was not keen on giving you access to roam the halls in search of your artifact. I believe he thought himself capable of finding it first-"

"He can't!" Hermione said quickly, a light panic in her tone. "It's not-"

"However," Minerva cut off Hermione's plea with a single raised hand to silence her before moving off the wall and into the middle of the corridor. Minerva straightened her spine as the more familiar image of the authoritarian Hermione knew from youth took shape. "In Albus's absence I am Deputy Headmistress of this school and find no issue with you and Mr. Black taking a…say… lover's stroll through the corridors this evening while supper is being taken in the Great Hall. Should you both seem inclined to reminisce about your days spent as pupils of this great school."

"I think that sounds like a….great use of our time," Hermione managed, unable to help the small bit of laughter that fluttered around the edges of her words. Was the Professor really telling her to find the diadem, regardless of what Dumbledore's wishes were? Of all the things she had experienced with the witch growing up, this subtle panache for looking the other way to rule breaking seemed to the most shocking.

"It would be best to ensure that your exploration is finished in time for evening tea. From what I gather, the Headmaster will be returning by then to help make arrangements for Peter."

"Of course." Hermione pushed off the wall. It was still early, but given the carefully worded blessing from McGonagall, she needed to tell Sirius their window of opportunity to find the diadem was only hours away. She needed to wake him up, and they needed to gather a plan on how to make it up to the seventh floor without being too obvious of their intentions. "Thank you, Professor."

Minerva nodded, giving Hermione one more once over before she looked down the hall in the direction she had come from, away from Gryffindor Tower, before sweeping her hand towards it in an indication that Hermione ought to take her leave and return to her friends. She watched as Hermione began to hurry down the corridor at her command, the young witch's mind already beginning to plot out the rest of the day and how they would make this blessing work best for them at a time where they were also mourning the loss of a friend. "Oh... Miss Granger," Minerva called out. "One more thing."

Hermione spun around quickly. "Yes Professor?"

"Do keep Sirius out of trouble. I've heard he's taken an interest to you…despite your peculiar set of circumstances," Minerva called down the empty hallway, a knowing smirk pulling across her lips. "I've always held a fondness for that boy, but if should you tell him, I will deny it."

Hermione laughed, her hand lifting to her lips to capture it before it could slip further from her and she nodded. "I...I'll try my best. I'm sure you're aware that what you ask is not an easy task."

"Indeed. But for the brightest witch of her age, I'm sure you'll find a way," Minerva replied frankly, with only a glimmer in her eye giving way to the fondness in her words before she turned around, her robes sweeping along the stone corridor behind her as she moved to the staircase to make her rounds through the common room.

Hermione moved quickly to the grand staircase and made her way to the first floor, careful to avoid the floating step on her descent. She narrowly missed a run-in with Peeves, who was chasing after a group of House Elves headed for the Great Hall with plates of pastries, and moved down the hall quickly toward the temporary sleeping quarters Minerva had bestowed upon their group. Cracking the door, Hermione slipped inside and tossed the throw blanket she had snagged earlier back onto the blanket rack before toeing out of her boots and leaving them beside the door.

She kept her footing light, careful to not wake James or Lily. Creeping past their door she cast a modified silencing charm on it before moving to the sitting room and she slipped inside and shut the door behind her with a small snap. "Sirius!" Hermione said as she moved quickly across the room room towards the makeshift bed.

Sirius lay sprawled out in the middle of the mattress like an overgrown starfish and made no move to stir at his name being called, thick black hair spread across the lumpy pillows. His right arm and leg were thrown over Remus, who had managed to steal every bit of covers in the shared comforter and was rolled up on his side facing the opposite wall.

Hermione crawled onto the mattress before sitting down on her knees as she reached down to gently shake the sleeping wizard awake. "Sirius, get up!"

Gray eyes cracked open as he groaned in protest, reaching up to bat at her hands. "Little bird," he grumbled before rolling on his side away from her and wrapping his arms around the Remus/blanket lump beside him on the bed. " 's too early."

"McGonagall knows!'

"Of course she does," Sirius mumbled a sleepy reply before yawning, allowing his eyes to drift close. "Witch knows everything… She's bloody brilliant."

"No, you idiot. She knows about me," Hermione tried to explain but to no avail because Sirius did nothing but nuzzle into the pillow and Remus more. "For fuck's sake, she knows about the time turner!" Hermione hissed, her arms crossed over her chest, and she waited, knowing it would only take a second for him to process her words and what Minerva being privy to that information truly meant.

"Wait...what!?" Sirius sat up, nearly causing Remus to tumble off the bed in his haste. Minnie knew? But how? Hermione's mission was confidential. Alastor nearly ripped off his head when he found out Remus knew! "What do you mean?"

"Dumbledore, obviously," Hermione answered, smirking as she watched him try to rub the sleep from his eyes as he tried to wake up. "Look, it doesn't really matter how she knows, but rather that she knows."

"Leave. Now. Both of you can have this conversation somewhere else. I'm trying to fucking sleep," Remus growled, refusing to open his eyes as he reached behind him for a pillow.

Hermione grabbed the pillow next to her before placing it in her friend's searching hand, and she rolled her eyes when he shoved it over his head to hide himself further in the bedding. For a man who turned into a scary Werewolf once a month, Remus in his natural form was about a menacing as a field mouse.

"Are you certain? Maybe you… misheard her," Sirius questioned. His hand lifted from his eyes and pushed back the thick mane of loose black waves from his face, fingernails scratching at the back of his scalp as his campfire smoke eyes found hers.

"No. I'm fairly certain with what I heard. She knows," Hermione explained, "But...that's not even the best part."

"Best part? I was actually thinking that it was probably not-"

"She's going to allow up to find the diadem before Dumbledore returns," Hermione cut him off, the corner of her mouth lifting in a small victorious smile. "Which means, if we can find it we'll only have-"

"The fucking cup. Great, hurrah. Celebrate somewhere else. I don't really give a flying fuck what you two do in this moment as long as it involves vacating this fucking room so I can go back to bed!" Remus snapped, after yanking the pillow off his head, and he rolled over almost violently to face the pair with a hard, narrowed gaze.

"Alright! Alright!" Hermione conceded, lifting both of her hands in mock surrender before she crawled backwards off the lumpy mattress. "But don't sleep too long. I think McGonagall expects us all to make an appearance outside of this room at some point today," she warned the grumpy Remus when he lowered his head down against his pillow and began to snuggle into the comforter.

Sirius and Hermione moved into the hallway, the castle beginning to hum to life with House Elves running the halls before the students woke up and the smell of baked goods wafting down the first floor corridor from the Great Hall. Her stomach rumbled, but breakfast would have to wait. They needed to talk and if there was one thing Hermione knew about Hogwarts from her years spent in this castle, it was that its young inhabitants were able to spread news faster than a wildfire.

Grabbing Sirius's hand, she pulled the still half-asleep wizard down the hall, away from the source of the delicious smell and towards the front doors of the castle, despite his very vocal protest. Her boots thumped softly on the cold stone floor and her hand went out to push open the set of doors leading to the cold winter landscape outside. The air was brisk, biting her lungs and causing the steam from each exhale to linger in front of her lips as she stepped onto the landing outside.

"Circe's tit, Little bird," Sirius hissed, his hand yanking from hers as he wrapped his arms around himself. He had only worn his jeans and the long sleeve gray t-shirt, leaving his jacket inside the room. "It's fucking cold!"

"Good, then you'll move quick," Hermione teased with a small snort as she began down the icy steps and across the snowbank heading toward the owlery. It was one place she knew did not contain portraits and would likely be vacant this early in the morning. Although it lacked a fireplace for warmth, the stone walls would be better than nothing. As she moved briskly across the lawn, she didn't even notice the two hooded figures walking up the path from Hogsmeade until they were within within shouting distance.

"Running away from him already, Hermione?" Regulus called out, pulling back the thick black hood of his cloak and he flashed an award winning grin at the witch. "I thought it might last until the New Year, but I'll take this early dissolution as a sign that you're ready to give the better brother a try."

Hermione's head whipped around, her curls slapping against her cheek as her brows lifted in surprise and she felt Sirius stumbled into the back of her as she slowed her jaunt to a crawl. "Regulus?...What on earth are you doing here?"

"Piss off, Reg." Sirius lifted his hand to give his little brother a crude gesture before wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulders almost possessively as he pulled her close.

"As proper as always, Sir'. Mother would be so pleased to know she raised a little gentleman," Regulus remarked before he glanced to the hooded figure next to him and he nodded, as if to say it was okay for him to lower his hood. "I stopped by your flat to find you, but when I found it empty I figured you all came here. We've got some things to discuss."

"If you're talking about Wormtail, we already know," Sirius said after he looked around him to make sure no other sets of ears lingered in the early morning snowscape around them. "We've got it handled."

"You knew he was left here, didn't you?" Hermione questioned, teeth biting into her bottom lip. "Regulus, if he's attacking his followers, we've got problems, I agree. But like Sirius said, it's being handled. The Headmaster is on his way back to help with arrangements and make plans on...well what we do from here."

A bitter laugh came from the hooded figure next to Regulus, before two pale white hands rose to drop the hood that shielded his face. "What to do with that pathetic excuse for a man is the least of your problems," came a slow, snide reply, beady black eyes narrowing to match a perfected sneer across his lips as he looked over the now bristling Sirius before they were turned on the witch under his arm who had begun to visibly pale as soon as his hood hit the back of his shoulders. "For the Dark Lord is very interested in learning all he can about you...Hermione Granger," Severus explained.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys! Sorry this is a tad late. I hope you enjoy it. If you're open to other pairings, I have a Harmony short story releasing soon (Written for Harmony & Co. Advent) and a Dramione Holiday piece written for Dramione FanFiction Writer's Triwizard Tournament with the amazing Disenchantedglow. so keep on the lookout for those two pieces!


	48. Rivals

**December 26th, 1979 - 05:47 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

"For the Dark Lord is very interested in learning all he can about you...Hermione Granger." The words echoed in Hermione's ear as if she were back in Crystal Cove. Resounding, and full of malice. Her words caught in her throat and formed a lump so large it felt as if it prevented her from actually breathing. The Dark Lord knew her name and was clearly beginning to inquire as to who she was. Her hands shook at her sides, and her heart beat rapidly beneath her ribs. This was not good—no, this was fucking terrible.

She had spent the better part of her tenure at Hogwarts on Voldemort's shit list due to her relationship with Harry. Truth be told, she would have ended up there anyways because of her blood status, but the fact remained the same. She knew exactly what it meant for him to target her, and to what lengths he would go to try and snuff out what he deemed as a blight in the history of magic. This was something she had hoped to avoid this time around. She kept her public appearances limited, and Alastor had impressed upon the Order the importance of not discussing her mission. How had he found out? She thought she had taken enough precautions.

Her feet had felt like they had filled with lead, and the sudden urge to vomit overpowered the giddy she felt moments earlier. She could barely make out the commotion around her over the sound of her heart beating rapidly beneath her chest and it was not until she felt Sirius's shoulder brush hers as he passed that she realised that the world around her had not stopped revolving.

"What did you bloody tell him?!" Sirius snarled, his hand curling into the front of Severus's robes, and despite his shorter stature, Sirius' fury made him appear ten feet taller. Campfire smoke eyes swirled with fury as he yanked Severus closer, his jaw setting.

Severus was many things- aloof, sarcastic and broody-but he was never going to let Sirius' attempt at overpowering him slide. "Get your filthy hands off me, Black," Severus snarled as his hands collided in the center of Sirius' to send him stumbling backwards upon impact. "What I said about your little _Mudblood_ is really not the point, now is it? The point is her name is on his lips and in his mind, as is yours. How you deal with this fact is far more bloody important."

"Children," Regulus tried to interrupt, taking a tentative step forward to put himself between the pair with an arm outstretched in either direction. "Can't we jus-Oh shit!"

Sirius lunged, shoving his brother out of the way to tackle Severus into the snowy ground. He wasted no time in landing several quick blows right on the center of Severus' nose in an obvious attempt to either break it or disorient him.

Hermione watched, her brow knitting in confusion at the display and it took approximately five full seconds for her brain to catch up to what she was witnessing. "Shit!" Hermione cursed as she moved quickly towards the scuffle. Reaching out, her right hand curled around Regulus' shoulder and she yanked him out of the way while her left dove into her pocket to withdraw her Vinewood. "Sirius, stop it!"

The command fell on deaf ears, because at this point Severus was fighting back despite the blood spilling across his alabaster skin. He did not possess the same finesse as Sirius in the fight, but it seemed to do the trick because he was able to land an upward heel thrust directly against Sirius' jaw that stunned him enough to allow Severus enough time to draw his wand. The thin tip was pressed roughly into the center of Sirius' chest, and with a nonverbal incantation, he went flying backwards with a bang.

Hermione screamed, her hands lifting to cover her ears as she instinctively dropped to a crouch, wide brown eyes watching her boyfriend's body land with a sickeningly loud thump twenty yards away. Her heart stuttered, praying for any sign of movement and when none came, she scrambled to her feet, the wet snow clinging to the palms of her hands as she ran the distance to him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Hermione swore as she skidded to her knees next to her boyfriend, snow seeping into her jeans. She dropped her wand beside her before reaching out to Sirius, fingers trembling as she grabbed his shoulders and gave him a light shake, eyes flickering over his blank face. "Sirius? S-Sirius?!"

Sirius lay still, his chest not even moving with breath, and seconds after she shook him, pleading, he took a sudden gasping breath. The electricity of the spell caused sparks to pop off his bluing lips as his eyes flew open. His hands curled around his midsection as he rolled to his side, beginning to cough violently as the magic worked from his body.

Torn between tears and fury, Hermione chose the latter. Hermione' head snapped over her shoulder, brown eyes narrowing on Severus who was now standing, searching his pockets for something to hold under his nose. "You fucking hooked-nose git!" Hermione would have never dreamed of insulting her professor, but right now? Well he was still years away from holding that title, which meant he was fair game to the storm brewing inside her.

Severus' head snapped up, his right palm held under his nose to try and slow the bleeding. "Excuse me?"

Regulus, who was standing between Hermione and Severus, began to back up out of her path to the wizard with slow distinctive steps. "Now Hermione… Sev was just defending himself."

"Defending himself? DEFENDING HIMSELF?" Hermione could hear her voice hit an octave that it had not in years. "No, what he did was act like a fucking coward," Hermione snapped. Grabbing her wand from the snow, her fingers curled so tightly around the Vinewood that her knuckles began to whiten and she stood, beginning across the lawn towards the pair with the tip pointed directly at Severus. "What he **did** was resort to magic because he was too bloody weak to actually win a physical fight. What he **did** was use a slur that he should be fucking ashamed of using considering his childhood crush is also Muggleborn!"

Severus, it appeared, had no qualms about sending a hex through the air towards Hermione, not willing to take her dressing down willingly. "Shut your mouth! Do not pretend to know anything about me."

Hermione deflected the hex with an effortless flick of her wrist, her protego shield ricocheting the spell and sending it into the side of the castle wall where a small knick in the stone was left in its wake. Although she knew he possessed a raw talent, which was part of the reason Voldemort took a keen interest in Severus at a young age, she had faced far worse foes than a tempermental teenage wizard. He still had many years under the Dark Lord's service to perfect his spellwork and craft his skill, while Hermione had just come from one war and was thrust into another with less than a year's break in between. Far from out of practice, she deflected the second hex effortlessly and turned the spell on Severus. She let it crash against the ground at his feet, sending the tall lanky wizard stumbling back in shock.

" _Levicorpus!_ " There was something almost acrimonious about using his own spell on him. Hermione couldn't deny that dark wave of gratification that washed over her as she watched the shock set on his face when her words were comprehended. Her hard look broke into a wicked grin when she watched the invisible hook of the spell wrap around his ankles and yank Severus skyward by his feet. The ends of his shoulder-length hair trailed on the snow, and his cloak dropped down over his torso, leaving him frantically fighting to get it off so he could cast the counter curse. "I know far more about you than you do me, Severus. I would be incredibly careful with how you talk to me."

"Let. Me. Down!" the upside-down wizard growled.

"Or what?" Hermione mused. "You do not seem to be in any position to make demands, Severus."

Regulus howled with laughter, the corners of his eyes leaking small droplets of tears. "H-Hermione," he managed through heavy breaths as he reached for the retaliation-driven witch. "As much as I want this to continue, because quite frankly, this is probably the funniest thing I have witnessed since leaving Hogwarts, so thank you for the chuckle; I will be singing your praises for weeks to come." Regulus took a deep breath, using the pause gather his wits. She was quite striking in many ways, but they had a reason for coming. And watching this little witch out smart his clever friend was not one of them. "Which is why it pains me to request you lower my quick draw of an accomplice to the ground."

Hermione's eyes cut over to Regulus, watching him dab the corner of his eyes with his fingers as he tried to gain composure. "Lower him? Absolutely not," Hermione scoffed, giving her head a quick shake. "He attacked Sirius and then tried to attack me!" she snapped as she swept her free hand behind her towards Sirius, who was now sitting up in the snow rubbing the center of his chest. "He's lucky all I did was draw him up by his ankles. I should fucking body bind him and toss him in the Forbidden Forest for the centaurs to deal with."

"Just try it!" Severus snarled, his hands frantically pulling at his cloak that was blocking his line of vision from her.

"Big talk for a wizard hanging by his ankles," Hermione remarked and flicked her wrist to the left, causing Severus' hanging body to move in time with her wand, the movement causing him to shout in surprise.

"Come now. Let's be civil," Regulus snickered, his hand moving to cover his smile as he crossed his right arm over his chest, trying desperately not to let her know how much he was enjoying her little power play. "Sev, you won't retaliate, with you?"

"Retaliate? No, I'm going to bloody—"

Regulus' hawthorn wand sliced through the air, and suddenly Severus' words could no longer be heard. The upside wizard was clearly also shocked by this sudden silence, for he froze for a moment before he began to try to pull his at his cloak with a renewed sense of vigor. "See? He's not going to strike back. Now… if we could please? I'd rather like to make our presence here unknown. The last time I saw Minerva she was not particularly fond me," Regulus clucked.

Hermione hesitated, her teeth chewing her bottom lip in internal debate and she gave a solemn nod to Regulus. "Fine, but if he so much as blinks at me inappropriately again I will not hesitate," she warned.

"I would expect nothing less," Regulus gave a small nod in submission.

Turning her gaze on Severus, she flicked her wand to send the future professor's body flying through the air before casting the counter spell, and his lanky body dropped into a snow drift about twenty feet away from them, closer to the owlery. Tucking her vinewood up her sleeve, Hermione moved back over to Sirius and she helped her boyfriend up from the snow, her fingers lacing with his as she guided them across the snowy lawn towards the owlery. She could hear the snow crunch and the sound of hushed words behind her, indicating Severus and Regulus were likely not too far behind.

Sirius moved quietly into the owerly, his fingers still rubbing against the center of his chest. He didn't need to look at his skin to know the spell damage that lay beneath. It wasn't the worst he had ever received, and with a bit of dittany it wouldn't even leave a scar, but the fact it lay there made him sore. Severus had been his rival since first year, so for him to get the upper hand on him did not sit well with him. "I'm gonna fucking hex his bollocks off," Sirius mumbled as he moved across the narrow room.

"You'll do no such thing," Hermione whispered back, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Regulus and Severus were out of ear shot before she looked back up to her boyfriend and with her free hand she touched his cheek to pull his attention to her. "Please...don't do anything stupid. I'll handle this… and then we can talk."

Sirius bit his bottom lip, gray eyes flickering between his girlfriend and the pair of spy Death Eaters across the musty room and an exasperated sigh was given. "I don't like this… I don't trust him."

It was almost ironic how this conversation felt similar ones she had shared with Harry and Ron. The dark humor in it was not lost on Hermione, and she fought to keep a smirk from tugging across her lips. "I'm not asking you to. But you trust me right? And Reg? You trust your brother."

"Little bird, that is not the point!"

"But it is. I've got this. I can handle this overgrown toddler. But what I cannot handle is you," Hermione whispered back, making sure to keep her voice lower than the soft noises the newly awoken owls made around them.

"Me? What did I do?!" Sirius whispered back, his eyes widening in surprise.

Hermione pursed her lips as she lifted a single brow at him, unsure if his question was hypothetical or not. She knew whatever spell Severus had used on him was powerful, but surely he didn't hit his head that hard!

"I was just trying to figure out what he told that arsehole!" Sirius justified, his head moving so Hermione dropped her hand from his face and he stole his hand back from her to cross his arms over his chest defensively.

"Yes, because one tends to talk a lot after they've been punched in the face, repeatedly," Hermione responded in conjunction with a well-placed roll of her eyes, which earned a small noise in frustration from Sirius. She understood his intention was good, or possibly hoped it to be so, but the fact remained the same. They were not going to figure out what Voldemort knew if Sirius' only method of communication with Severus was to beat him to a pulp. Severus was a shit, this much as obvious, and rightly deserved whatever beat down life handed him. But he was still a war hero at the end of it all – at least during her timeline.

Growing up Professor Snape was a complete pain in the arse, and often acted like he had it out for her, Ron and Harry, but when the truth came out after that fateful night she could begin to understand why. He led two completely separate lives and risked everything to ensure Voldemort's demise. He earned no glory for what he did, and ended up dying a presumed traitor. Severus Snape was complex to say the least. Especially now. He was young, and clearly still battling himself over what to believe. Hermione could only imagine how different his life would look the second time around. Would he still teach? Would he turn back to the Dark Lord? Would he find love and not be a total fucking cunt?

Licking her lips, Hermione let out a heavy sigh, taking a moment to gather her straying thoughts and she slipped her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. "Sirius… Look, it doesn't matter. Just don't do anything. I've got this. Okay?"

"Right...whatever you say." Sirius' jaw set and he purposefully averted his eyes from his girlfriend's. This independent 'I can handle everything myself' streak she seemed to possess was endearing at first, but now that they were so far into this mess together, it was starting to wear more and more on him. Did she not realise the type of danger she was in!? Did she not fucking see how it affected him too? Beyond the possibility of her getting seriously hurt- or worse, killed-was the fact that his name was tied with her own. It had been for nearly a year now, which meant that whatever danger she faced, he was likely going to come head-to-head with it as well.

Severus stood against one side of the owlery, his dark cloak touching the dirty floor as he leaned back against the wall, holding a piece of cloth in front of his aquiline nose. The once-white handkerchief was now bright red, soaking up the blood that trickled steadily from his left nostril.

"If two you can't keep your dog in line," a nasally Severus warned, dark eyes cutting from Regulus to Hermione, "I will take my leave now. And happily, might I add. I do not need to meddle into your affairs. My loyalty was pledged to Dumbledore, not any of you."

"Severus, do us all a favor," Regulus moved across the room, not even bothering to look back at his friend as he spoke. "And shut the bloody fuck up. You've already done enough damage for the both of us." Lingering in the center of the room, Regulus leaned against a low wall that held several owl perches, careful to avoid the droppings. He reached out and affectionately scratched a barn owl on top of its head in greeting.

Sirius snorted, the corners of his mouth pulling at his brother's crispness with his rival, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye, watching his girlfriend make her way across the narrow room to meet Regulus in the middle, both acting as a barrier of sorts to keep them separated.

"We should probably make this quick," Hermione said softly as she approached on the opposite side of the half wall.

"Really? I always took you for a slow and… rough kind of witch, but if you insist," Regulus remarked, flashing the curly haired witch the trademark Black smirk with a wink. "Might be a bit off considering the company, but if you're game."

"Really?" Hermione remarked as she crossed her arms over her bust, giving the wizard a hard look. "You just watched your brother attack Severus. I highly doubt he would go easier on you just because you're blood related."

Regulus' gray eyes lifted from Hermione to find his brother, offering him a little wave of his fingers, because he knew Sirius was growing more irritated by the second because he could not heard their conversation. "No. I suspect he would hold nothing back." Regulus shrugged.

"What did Severus tell him?" Hermione questioned, her fingers tapping lightly on her arms impatiently. They needed to hurry this up for more than one reason. She still had to discuss searching the Room of Requirement with Sirius and enlist Remus' help in making sure no one tried to re-dress Peter into more appropriate funeral attire, whatever the hell that was during this era for the recently departed. She knew Arthur had worn traditional robes in his casket, but wasn't quite sure how by the book the Pettigrews were.

Regulus tore his eyes from Sirius and straightened his spine, his hands smoothing against the breast of his black cloak out of habit. "What he knew, which is not a lot, but enough to intrigue the Dark Lord," Regulus began, letting his voice grow loud enough for the others in the room to hear. "Your name, your education – which he found most peculiar, and your current employer. He does not have connections with the MACUSA yet, so verifying your mission over here is proving to be more difficult than he anticipated."

"Why would he bother with that? I am nobody to him."

"Certainly not," Severus remarked from behind his bloody handkerchief, "You are a witch who possesses knowledge about his greatest secret. And worse, it appears you know how to destroy them."

"He knows?" Sirius moved slowly across the room, ducking to avoid a low perch as he edged his way closer to his brother and girlfriend. "But, how?"

Severus scoffed, dropping his hand from his nose. "Because he's The Dark Lord! He's not some bloody Ministry worker. He possesses skills that can rival Dumbledore. Why you and your idiotic group of friends cannot grasp this is simply beyond me."

"I'm fairly fucking certain Sirius and our 'idiotic group of friends' understand just how powerful he is, Severus. Thank you for the less than helpful information," Hermione interrupted. "What Sirius is asking is how he knows we are the ones destroying them."

"Ah—I can answer that one," Regulus spoke up quickly, lifting his hand to silence the simmering Severus behind him before he could continue. "Magic," Regulus offered with a quick nod of his head.

Hermione waited, praying that any further explanation was going to come and when Regulus lifted his hand towards her, indicating he was waiting for her to lead the conversation she let out a small noise in exasperation as she tossed her hands in the air. "Can you stop being so fucking vague? I know he used magic! I don't need to be told he used magic, it's bloody assumed!"

Regulus took a single step back from the half wall, his hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers beneath his cloak and he let his eyes run the length of Hermione, noting the way she seemed to bristle further at his inspection of her. "Sir' you are quite right," he began, looking over Hermione's shoulder to his brother. "She is quite charming when she's upset. I can see the appeal."

Sirius lifted his hand, index finger pointed at his brother and just as he opened his mouth to tell his brother to keep opinions about his girlfriend to a more wholesome sort of assessment, he paused. Gray eyes flickered between Hermione and his brother, watching her simmer with frustration while his brother held this self-satisfied smirk at her bothered demeanor and he couldn't prevent the sudden laugh that fell from him. This was his move. Get under the witch's (or wizard's) skin to the point where their frustration with the blatant flirting turned into mutual infatuation. He had perfected it years ago, and clearly his little brother had picked up on it while he was still at home. "Yes, she is," Sirius laughed in agreement, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "But if you don't answer her question she might just grab you by the bollocks…and not in a pleasant way."

Regulus lifted a single brow at his brother, curiously watching as Sirius seemed to fall back from jumping to his girlfriend's defense. Instead of running to protect her, like he normally would have, Sirius seemed to simply fall back and instead choose to back up Hermione's threats. Most curious. Was it that Sirius did not see him as a real threat? Or maybe he trusted her? Either way, Regulus was not entirely sure what angle Sirius was playing in his relationship with the witch. "Alright...alright." Regulus sighed. "The Dark Lord's quite gifted with tracking spells. You two have been to the Gaunt hovel, haven't you?"

"What? How would-" Hermione began, looking taken aback.

"There really is no use denying it," Severus interrupted Hermione, his hand lifting to silence her. "We know you have been there, because he summoned me to the family home. He _saw_ you there. He watched you take the box from beneath the floorboards."

"Fuck. I must have forgotten to cast the disillusionment charm," Hermione murmured as she dropped her gaze to the ground, her teeth beginning to worry her bottom lip. This was not good. If he watched them take it, then he had to know the other Horcruxes were in danger. He would go looking for them and once he found them missing, they would certainly be targeted next. "How long do we have?" she questioned, glancing up to Regulus and Severus.

"'Til what?" Sirius' brow furrowed, looking down to the witch before over to his brother.

Regulus shrugged, his lips pursing in thought. "Maybe a couple weeks. Sev came to me as soon as the Dark Lord excused him for the evening."

"What are you two talking about?" Sirius' voice grew louder with his impatience. "We have a couple weeks until what?"

"Until Voldemort-" Hermione began, but was cut off by the sudden sharp intake of breath from Severus and Regulus. She had almost forgotten it was near treason to speak his name when in his ranks, but even now she was not going to let the fear that the wizard had associated with the use of his name stop her from speaking it. "-decides we are meddlesome enough to track down."

Regulus looked over his shoulder, as if checking to make sure the coast was clear before turning back to Hermione and his brother. "He knows of your residence in Puddlemere. Not the precise location, but an idea. It won't take him long to pinpoint which flat is yours, if he were so inclined. I would suggest leaving as soon as you can."

Sirius nodded, his hand going up to smooth against his black hair. Great, Remus was going to be pleased as punch with this prospect. He couldn't wait to have that conversation once they dealt with this whole Peter mess. "Okay… We'll leave."

"We will try to buy you some time," Regulus put particular emphasis on the beginning of his sentence, glancing to Severus beside him with a fixed gaze of importance. As if this point was not up for discussion, this was simply what each of them would do going forward. "But whatever it is you need to do to the rest of those… things. Do it quickly."

"We have two more," Hermione said quickly, her mind already beginning to swirl with plans of how they could make this work in such a limited timeline. "I know where one is, but I need help with the other."

"What is it?" Regulus questioned.

"A golden cup," Hermione lifted her hands, giving an estimate on the size of the object. "Or rather a chalice with a badger on the front. If you find it, owl me. That is the only one I am lacking leads on."

"I will. And if you find it before I do… destroy it. Immediately," Regulus instructed, pulling his hands from his trouser pockets, and he moved to put his hood back on.

"That's kind of the goal, isn't it?" Sirius remarked, unable to keep the sarcasm from his tone. It was almost a defense mechanism at this point, something both brothers learned at a young age to deflect the uncomfortableness of bad situations.

Regulus was glad his face was hidden, because it allowed him to let his guard down for a moment as he watched his brother reach out to pull Hermione close. He could see the way the two of them leaned on each other, using physical touch to offer a means of silent support, and a temporary flare of jealous washed over him. It wasn't about her, although she was rather fit and smart, but more that Sirius had managed to find someone through this mess. Someone to share the risk, and look after. "Send word once you're out of the flat."

Sirius' fingers pressed lightly against Hermione's skin on her hips as he pulled her body against his in a comfortable embrace. Using her closeness as a means to help him think through what Regulus and Snivellus told him. Leaning down, Sirius rested his chin on Hermione's shoulder, watching as his brother and Snape began to make their exit from the owlery. "Reg," Sirius called out. "If it gets too much…leave. Don't risk your life for this. Come find me. Okay?"

A small chuckle could be heard from beneath the darkened hood, and Regulus glanced over his shoulder to his brother, his hand holding open the heavy wooden door to the outside. "Whatever you say, big brother," he teased before moving out into the white landscape after Severus.

Hermione and Sirius stood in silence for several minutes, her back pressed against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat on her back grounding her to the moment and preventing her from letting her mind carry her away with the possibilities of what this news meant. It was different this time around. The fear felt familiar, but so different, because this time around she had more to lose. Reaching down, Hermione slid her right hand over Sirius' and she laced her fingers through his at her hip, giving him a small reassuring squeeze. "Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Professor McGonagall gave us permission to search the castle this evening before Dumbledore returns." Hermione kept her voice low. Although the risk of anyone else finding them was low, she still felt like some sort of precaution was needed. "We need to find the diadem tonight."

Sirius let out a soft sigh before turning his head into the crook of Hermione's neck, burying his face in her short curls. "You never have good news for me… do you?" he whispered.

Hermione let out a short, breathy laugh as she leaned back into his embrace, using him for support as she closed her eyes, taking just this moment to drop her walls and let the weight of this mission fall around their feet. "One day I will," she promised. "We just have to fight our way to it."

"I can't bloody wait," Sirius mumbled, pressing a soft kiss behind her ear. He was still upset with her, his feelings still hurt because of her impulsive and bullheaded nature, but nothing seemed to make the anger dissipate faster than knowing a crazy wizard was days away from putting a price tag on the life of the one you loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to address some of the questions in reviews:
> 
> 1) I don't think I have ever implied that any of the marauders were lacking talent. Severus & Regulus are talented wizards, yes, but the marauders are obviously above par. How many teenagers do you see being able to master becoming animagus? Regardless, if that was what you took away, I assure you that was not my intention. Every one of these characters had their own set of unique abilities. 
> 
> 2) We will cover Peter's DM. Don't fret. I have no forgotten. :) I would say that more often than not, people don't automatically undress the dead unless your a mortician.
> 
> Hope this covers some things. Happy New Year to all my lovely readers. Stay safe!
> 
> Thank you Islandgurl777 for being my beta extraordinaire. you're simply superb.


	49. Clean

****

 

**December 26th, 1979 - 08:35 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Hermione's hand tightened around the pitcher of milk she had tucked against her chest as she balanced the plate of muffins in her other hand, trying her best to make sure nothing spilled to the floor as she waited for Sirius to open the door to the room. "Can you hurry up?" Hermione clucked, glancing over her shoulder to where Sirius lingered, talking to a student.

Sirius looked away from the teen to his girlfriend and let out a short laugh. "I better go. This one isn't fun to deal with upset, if you catch my drift." After bidding farewell to his old classmate, Sirius moved to the door and with a twist of the nob and jut of his hip, the room sprung open. "You know…you could have just used magic," he pointed out as he stepped back to allow her into the room.

"How was I supposed to know you'd stop and talk to every bloody Gryffindor that walked down the hallway?" Hermione mumbled under her breath as she walked into the private quarters. For as busy as the hallway was outside, the room still lay as quiet as the grave. Neither Lily nor James had made their way from the bedroom, and it appeared Remus was still content to snuggle into the covers in the den. Her brown eyes flickered around the room in search of a clock, before she finally spotted it hung along the far wall. It was only eight thirty, and considering the group did not find the sweet embrace of sleep until early morning, she couldn't really blame them for staying in bed. If it weren't for the millions of thoughts brewing in her mind, she likely would have joined them.

"I can't help it if I'm popular."

Hermione shot an unamused glance over her shoulder to her boyfriend as she moved towards the coffee table. As charming as he was, the fact remained he still had a bit of napkin wadded up his left nostril to slow the bleed, and rapidly forming bruises on his cheeks. Popular or not, the reason he drew attention was likely his appearance, and less his popularity. Hermione shook her head at his arrogance as she lowered the tray of muffins and pitcher of milk to the coffee table before she withdrew her wand from her pocket. "Just put the tray on there, if you wouldn't mind Mr. Popular," she whispered before motioning for Sirius to set the food that he'd charmed to float behind him on the table.

Gray eyes flickered toward the flimsy drape that Minnie had charmed to hang over the entry to the kitchen, lingering on it as his mind flashed to thoughts of what lay on the other side. Peter. A man he had considered one of his best friends growing up- No. A man he considered his brother. Dead. And worse, a traitor. Pushing the memories of their childhood out of his mind, Sirius grabbed the silver tray that floated behind him and he lowered it to the table as instructed. Hot water for tea, and a platter of fruit. It wasn't much, but their makeshift breakfast was going to be enough to fill the bellies of their grieving friends while they waited for instruction and mourned.

Hermione watched as Sirius stole a piece of melon from the plate and popped it into his mouth before he moved away from the table to collapse on the couch with a huff. Normally she might scold him for not using a napkin or waiting for the others, but she knew that despite the fact he knew the truth about Peter's allegiance, he was still grieving. It was obviously not to the same extent that Lily or James were, who likely felt blindsided by the sudden loss, but rather a slow ache that would increase with time as the implications of what his death meant settled like pollen on a walkway during a spring wind. It wasn't enough to notice in the beginning, but before long that grief would feel overwhelming and consuming. She knew exactly how this creeping sorrow snuck its way into one's heart. With a quick flick of her wrist, a Stasis Charm was set over the food to prevent it from spoiling or losing its temperature while they waited for the rest of the party to rise.

With only the sound of the crackling fire fill the room, the weight of what was occurring felt heavier than normal. Peter was dead, Voldemort was on to them, and they still had two of his horcruxes left to find and destroy. The reality was settling in and she would be lying if she said she was only a more than a little frightened. As much as she prayed for a better sunrise each night her head hit the pillow, she knew from first-hand experience it would be more difficult from here on out. She had lived through this before, while Sirius and every other Order Member were blissfully unaware what it felt like to be on the run from forces so evil the mere mention of their name sent tears to peoples' eyes. They would need to leave their friends and hide while they finished this task. The timeline had been more than a little unpredictable since she had returned, and she feared that staying around Lily and James while being hunted by Death Eaters would only secure their fate the second time around. The thought of losing them, and in turn Harry, sent goosebumps running down her arms and a solid lump in her throat fell into the pit of her stomach. Hallow and echoing, it was almost as if she could taste the fear. She couldn't let that happen. Not after they'd come so far.

"You okay, little bird?" Sirius questioned. Leaning forward off the couch, his elbows pressed into the top of his thighs as he cocked his head to the side at her, his fingers being licked one at a time to rid them of the melon juices clinging to his skin.

Startled from her thoughts, Hermione lifted her hand to push her shoulder length curls from her face as she nodded. "Yeah…I'm fine," she lied, forcing a small smile at Sirius. Maybe if she put on a brave face, she wouldn't have to admit how utterly terrified she was. "Let's get you cleaned up before your boyfriend sees you've been wounded and demands vengeance from your assailant."

"Remus or James?" Sirius questioned with a lifted brow. When Hermione only cocked her head to the side at his question, Sirius chuckled. "My boyfriend...which gets that honor?" Pushing up off the couch, Sirius moved around the coffee table, careful to not nudge it and disrupt her spell.

"Oh… um, well knowing you, probably both," Hermione smirked, her arms crossing over her bust as she watched him contemplate her answer with a soft laugh before he gave her an affirmative nod in agreement. Reaching out, she gave him a small shove towards the bathroom.

They moved silently across the living space in an effort to not disturb the sleeping occupants. Once they were inside the small bathroom Hermione cast a quick silencing charm before she set her wand on the counter top. "Take a seat."

"Yes ma'am," Sirius replied with a wink. Moving around her petite frame, Sirius made his way towards the toilet and he lowered the seat before sitting down. His long legs kicked out casually with an air of arrogance that seemed more than a little amusing considering he was fishing a wad of bloodied napkin from his nose.

"I always knew you and Severus had bad blood," Hermione began as she searched the cabinets for salves or potions that might help. Bruise paste was obviously not going to be available, having figured that one out of the hard way, but a pain potion might be helpful. A swelling solution would be the most ideal, but she wasn't familiar if it was well stocked in rooms during this era- of if it had been invented yet. "But I never knew it was that bad. When I saw you both in a room last, you could at least hold a semi-civil conversation."

"Really?" Sirius questioned in disbelief. "We hang out in the future?"

Hermione instantly laughed at the thought and had to pause her search to collect herself. Sirius and Severus hang out? Gods no. She was almost certain one would be able to convince a House Elf to take a knit hat before that happened. "Uh… no. Order meetings," Hermione explained. "You were far from friends still, but no jinxes were thrown. You both just tried to impale each other verbally, and repeatedly. So that's at least an improvement."

"That was actually fairly tame," Sirius remarked off handedly as he leaned back against the back of the toilet, his head tipping back to prevent the blood from falling across his lip now that he'd withdrawn the tissue. "The last time we had a run in, I left him sporting a rather striking pair of antlers. They rivaled Prongs' set."

Unable to stop herself, Hermione snorted at the mental image of the surly Potions master from her youth with a pair of well-formed antlers sprouting from the top of his greasy hair. That was an image her third year self would have likely laughed until she wee'd at. She received far too many undeserved tongue lashings (and point deductions) from the future Severus Snape to not have a small part of her enjoy the idea of him losing in a duel, and better yet, to a man he despised—her boyfriend. Moving some dusty-looking empty vials out of the way, she caught a glimpse of a small round jar in the back of the medicine cabinet. Snatching the jar from its hiding place nestled between an empty pain potion and a sketchy looking bottle of what she was positive was actually Hag's Wart Removal Cream, she examined the jar curiously. It contained some sort of fluorescent green goo that looked oddly familiar. She spun the bottle slowly until a hand written label was revealed. Slughorn's Pain Salve. That's right, he was here during this time! She had nearly forgotten he would be lurking the castle halls during this era. Making a quick mental note to avoid the dungeons, Hermione shut the cabinet with a snap before she turned to Sirius and nudged the side of his legs with her foot in a silent request for him to move them so she might move closer to him. "So this was just retaliation for an unwanted head ornament?" she questioned as she gestured toward his face.

"This?" Sirius questioned as he lifted his hand and used his pointed finger to lazily circle his face. "No, little bird. This was just a Wednesday morning hello." When her astonished laughter hit his ear, Sirius unlocked his ankles and sat up straighter. His hands wound her waist, curling softly against her skin, Sirius guided her between his now parted legs until her knees pressed against his inner thighs. "Honestly, a bloody nose is not that bad. I've got worse from James or Remus. Besides, do you _really_ want to talk about my affairs with Snivellus?" he questioned as his hands moved over her hips and down into the back pocket of her jeans.

Hermione tossed the lid to the salve on the counter next to them before dipping two fingers into the jar, making sure to scoop out just a decent size of the salve before she smeared it on the back of her hand. "No I don't particularly want to talk about _Severus_ ," Hermione corrected with a stern look before she turned her eyes to her hand, watching as she swirled the green salve against the back of it, hoping to break down the dense consistency into something that would apply to his skin better. "However, I do feel the need to remind you that he is technically on our side, **and** he was a hero by the end of the war."

"Well, he's not now," Sirius returned with a slight roll of his eyes.

"You're absolutely right. He's not now. But he is working directly for Dumbledore and the last time I checked, you still trusted _him_." Once happy with the viscosity of the salve, she wiped some of the excess from her fingertips before nudging Sirius' head up until he was looking directly at her face, and she began the application with a slow gentle swipe underneath his right eye. "Besides, I'd prefer not to have to bandage you up because of a childhood rivalry."

"This spans far beyond childhood, little bird," Sirius explained as he allowed her to manipulate his head as she worked the medicine into his skin. It tingled upon application, but as it seeped into his pores, the tingle gave way to a welcome warmth. The sensation walked the thin line between pleasant and painful, but he knew this salve well. Between the altercations he would get into with the snakes and Quidditch, he had used Slughorn's remedy more than his fair share of times. "But enough about long-haired idiots. Let's talk about you."

"I happen to fancy men with long hair, just so you know." Her mind was instantly taken back to the Sirius she knew in her youth. Rugged and handsome with a salt-and-pepper mane of loose curls. Even back then she saw his charm, in a devil-may-care sort of way. She obviously didn't fancy him at the tender age of thirteen, but looking back she could absolutely see it. Although Sirius had grown out his hair to a shaggy chin length, she knew it was due to lack of time to run off to the barber. She knew better than anyone that personal grooming tended to take the back burner during a war. Why bother with a haircut when you're worried about your life? Part of her hoped that once this was all settled, he would grow it out like he had when she first met him many years ago. "Regardless, what do you want to talk about me for?"

"Well, for starters, how about how you've been acting so bloody troll headed lately?" Sirius questioned pointedly while lifting a curved black brow at her. He watched as Hermione's walls instantly rose in response. It was almost as if they were visible. The happy twinkle in her eyes snapped away, replaced by a cooled exterior that he had not seen since January.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione replied briskly. Reaching over his shoulder she snatched a hand towel off of the towel bar and began to wipe up the excess salve from her fingers and palm as she backed out of his grasp.

"Ah, ah, ahh, not so fast." Sirius' grip tightened and he pulled her back into him before maneuvering her to sit on his left thigh with his hands firmly planted around her waist to prevent her escape. "Little bird, we're in this together. Remember?"

Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes, partially because she knew he was right. They were supposed to be in this together, weren't they? He swore to her back in June that she didn't need to face this task alone, but it was hard to allow someone in after spending so many years fending for yourself. When this mission was given to her, she knew it wouldn't be easy. She mentally prepared herself to be cold and aloof. She wasn't supposed to fall in love. They were not supposed to happen. The change she needed to make was not going to take overnight; he had to understand that. "Yes. I'm aware."

"Then why are you acting like this falls solely on you?" Sirius pressed. Sliding a hand up to her face, Sirius gently grasped her chin with his thumb and index finger before lifting her head back up so they were looking at each other once more. He knew it was hard; hell it was not exactly a walk in the park for him to accept help, but it seemed like every time she forgot he was there for her, she ended up running headfirst into irreserbability and bad things tended to come as a result.

Hermione stayed silent, his question winding through the dark recesses of her mind like water through a stones, bringing up long forgotten (or rather, pushed away) memories from the last eight years of her life. The franticness of the war at the end, the helpless feeling of not knowing who was alive, the terror of being chased, and the painful loss of the ones she loved. It was too much, too painful for her to think about on a daily basis, so she tried desperately to forget. She had pushed herself into focusing only on Harry and the war just so she didn't have to actually deal with the emotions. They were too big, too overwhelming. She pushed them away, cramming the feelings in a box inside her consciousness. She couldn't worry about anyone else. Nobody else mattered back then, even herself—especially herself.

"I...I…" The words clung to the roof of her mouth, unwilling to spill the secrets of just how fucking terrible that time in her life was. Why did he want to know this? Why did he fucking bring this up now!? His intentions might be pure, but in the moment she could only succumb to the consuming blackness within her soul. Her heart raced and she lifted both of her hands to press them against her eyes until white stars began to blossom. "I...I..."

Sirius' heart broke, watching her crumble from the strong-willed woman he fell in love with and into the sorrow she held deep inside. When they first met, he would have never known just how broken she was. Despite their different upbringings, it appeared they were both dealing with deep scars left by terrible events in their lives. His hand on her waist moved up her back, carefully stroking her spine in long comfortable strokes as he wrapped his other arm around her and cradled her against his bruised chest. "It's okay. Take your time."

Hermione's hands dropped from her face and she pressed her forehead against his neck, burying her face into his skin until all she could smell was him. Leather, cedar and smoke. The intoxicating combination was becoming a drug. He was worse than the nicotine he couldn't completely give up. He was more addictive than heroin. He could wind her up and calm her down in seconds flat. Two sides of the same coin. They shouldn't work; on paper, nothing about them should make sense, but while in his arms, nothing seemed more right. Even if she felt like the world was crashing down around her, she knew she had him as her life preserver to help her stay afloat. Her arms wound around his neck and she clung to him like a barnacle, trying to will herself into a sense of calm. Minutes pass with no words spoken, just the sound of their breathing and his comforting embrace soothing her soul.

"I Obliviated my parents two years ago. I had to. I didn't have a choice." Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper. If there were any other noises in the room it likely would have drowned out her words. "I didn't have a bloody choice, Sirius. It was—it was the safest thing for them. I couldn't protect them, not when I needed to help Harry."

Sirius had heard this before, but time did not lessen the pain. His relationship with his own parents was broken beyond repair, but it was obvious Hermione's was not. He couldn't even begin to fathom being thrust into that position simply because of who you were born to and befriended. His hand rose and slipped under her curls to rest on the back of her neck, his fingers soothingly pressing into the tension that had built just below her head. "I know, but we're fixing that. You won't have to do that again."

"No Sirius, you don't get it." Lifting her head, she sat up in his lap, her hands resting on his shoulders, fingers picking idly at the seam on his shirt. "We—We didn't have anyone. Just Harry, Ronald and I…We went on the run. We had to! They came after us at the wedding, and we knew then we had to leave. We were putting too many people at risk staying."

Sirius watched as she retold the story, but this time there was so much pain. So much sorrow infecting her words. Like the wounds she held inside had festered and its darkness was spreading to other parts of her being.

"—we were alone for so long. The Horcruxes weren't exactly easy to find, and Dumbledore didn't provide us a map or anything. It was just a hunch, and a lot of guesswork. A-And when everything was over—when Voldemort was finally dead. Harry had Ginny, and the Weasleys. Ronald tried to be there for me, but—but I didn't have anyone anymore. I—I didn't have Mum and Dad because—"

"Little bird," Sirius tried to interrupt her as gently as possible, his hand slipping from her neck to rest on her upper back.

"—I've been doing it on my own for so long that I think I forget what it's like…to have people I can rely on. Harry and Ronald were—were there but I needed to be strong. Everyone —"

"Little bird, stop. Just breathe, it's okay. You don't need to explain. I understand."

"—I needed to pretend I was okay because if I kept doing it then maybe I would believe it too—"

"Hermione!"

Snapping from her downward spiral, Hermione finally lifted her head from Sirius' shoulder, looking into his eyes, and the tears that had built up finally broke. They felt hot and shameful as they splashed against her skin, painful reminders of how weak and foolish she was. She had done exactly what she preached for everyone not to too. She ignored her pain for too long, and now it was starting to bleed out like a new wound. It felt deeper and more excruciating than before, for she had to add Ronald, Ginny and Arthur to the list of people to mourn. When she finally made it back to her timeline, she wouldn't have the warm embrace of the Weasleys; why would she? Without Ronald, how would she ever meet them?

"Hermione." Sirius cupped her cheek, his thumb smearing her fallen tears across her cheek as he attempted to wipe them away. "You're not alone."

Hermione nodded, her words locked in her throat. The simple statement meant more than Sirius would ever realise. Sure, he'd said it before, as had Remus, but there was something about it now. How he was seeing her vulnerability, seeing her shame and sorrow. And yet he still wanted to be here, with her, going on what was beginning to feel more and more like a suicide mission.

"You had a shit childhood. Trust me, I should know. I basically wrote the book on how to grow up in the most fucked up way possible. Yours makes mine look like child's play at times. I understand why you do what you do. I get it. It's not that you don't want help, it's that you've done it on your own for so long you forget how to ask for help," Sirius began as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I get it. I've been there too. It took me until third year to realise Prongs, Moony and…and even Wormtail weren't going to hurt me. At least not back then. But, Hermione, I will be here for you every day for the rest of my life so long as you'll have me. I love you more than I thought I could ever actually love someone, and sometimes love makes you do stupid things. Like agree to kill an evil bastard hell bent on destroying Wizarding society with a beautiful witch from the future."

Hermione's bit her bottom lip in an attempt to stem her tears. This wasn't the right time for this sort of declaration. Merlin, didn't Sirius know anything? Peter's dead, Lily and James are hopelessly sad, Remus is sleeping on a lumpy bed in the next room, and here she was looking like warmed up Hippogriff shit in a tiny bathroom with day-old clothing.

"I will be by your side every step of this journey, little bird. You have more people in your corner than you realise—obviously I am the most important one out of the bunch, but you have more than just me. Moony has warmed up to you, he'll be there. And Prongs! Prongs adores you. Gid' and Fabian would come running if needed, although part of me thinks there is some ulterior motive there. Those Prewitt twins were always up to scandalous stuff in school," Sirius remarked playfully, and when he earned a soft laugh from Hermione, his smile widened.

"The point is, you are not in this alone. No matter how you feel, or what that silly big brain of yours tells you. And guess what? Even if everyone else were to walk away because it got to be too much, you won't even lose me," Sirius promised as he tucked her hair behind ear.

Hermione nodded. She couldn't know the truth to his claims, but she believed him. Her world had been so upside down since she landed in 1979, but the one constant during this strange journey had always been him. Leaning forward, she gave him a soft chaste kiss before pressing her forehead against his. "I love you too."

"I know."

Hermione breathed a small laugh. Even in times of sorrow, it seemed he was incapable of turning off the Black charm. "I will try…I will really try and get better about sharing this load."

"You really ought to. I've got some big shoulders and a strong back," he teased as he nudged her nose with his. His hand on her cheek returned to her waist, his index finger looping loosely through her belt loop.

"But if I do, then you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"You have to promise not to be so rash. You charge into battle before you assess the situation more often than not. My healing skills are not quite up to Pomfrey's levels and I fear your wounds are becoming more frequent." Hermione slowly pulled back, a single hand running down to the center of his chest to lay over the jinx bruise she knew lay beneath his shirt.

"Well...anything but that," Sirius teased before wincing due to the well-placed slap against the bruise. "Ouch! Okay, okay, okay! I'll try...sheesh. You act like I'm wild and reckless or something." Sirius unwound his arm from her waist to lift his hand to the center of his chest, rubbing the sting that seemed to radiate down to his heart. Whatever the fuck Snivellus had hit him with was bloody painful. He'd make sure the next time he saw the smug prick he would thank him for it properly with the pointy end of his wand and a well-placed hex.

"You? Absolutely not." Sarcasm infused her words as she slowly moved from Sirius' lap and began to put the salve away and properly wash the medicine from her hands. "More like a free spirit and foolhardy."

Sirius leaned back on the toilet once more, his long legs kicking out as he crossed his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at his witch ever so slightly. "Now, I'm no swot, but I am nearly positive what you just described means the exact same thing as I said I was not."

Despite her best efforts to keep her face some splitting into a wide grin, it fell into place naturally. Biting her bottom lip to prevent a tell-tale laugh from falling from her lips, Hermione slowly dried her hands on a small hand towel. "Well color me impressed, Mr. Black. I was always told you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but it appears my vocabulary might be rubbing off on you."

Sirius clucked his tongue in disapproval before darting from his seat to pin her lightly to the wall, his arms wrapped securely around her petite frame. "I'll show you a new trick, you minx." The threat was idle as best, but he knew he would be able to earn a laugh from her, and after seeing her weep, he desperately wanted to bring a little bit of happiness back into her eyes.

Hermione squealed as she felt his fingers tickle expertly at her sides. She squirmed, the heel of her hands pressing roughly against his shoulders as she attempted to break from his grasp. "S-Sirius!" she gasped through her laughter until she felt his fingers cease their tickling. The small break allowed her to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart. Just as she opened her mouth to scold him for tickling her, she heard a noise from beyond the room that had been drowned out during their conversation. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Just listen," Hermione sighed before slipping out of his grasp and moving towards the door.

Sirius watched Hermione slowly opened the door, moving a centimeter a minute as to not give away their location inside the loo. It wasn't until the door was halfway open that he heard the noise. Someone was crying. No, not someone—Lily!

Hermione was the first out of the bathroom. The crying grew louder, but a quick survey of the tiny living quarters was able to reveal that Lily was not in there, which meant she was either in the bedroom with James or…

"Lils?" Sirius moved quickly, side-stepping around his girlfriend as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He didn't even bother looking around the living room as he passed through it. He knew exactly where she would be. The curtain was pulled back and Sirius stuck his head inside first, not wanting to barge in on her moment of sorrow. "Lils…you okay, love?"

The redheaded witch looked up, emerald eyes ringed with red from her tears, the porcelain skin on her cheeks blotchy, and she was trembling. She was far from okay, but considering the circumstances, he doubted anyone would be just okay after the night they had. "Sir'...I can't believe he's gone." Her voice cracked. She stood beside Peter's body clutching one of his cold hands between hers.

"Oh honey," Sirius cooed as he moved into the room, gray eyes softening on the mother-to-be. "I know." His voice was soft and slow as he moved beside her and draped his arm across her shoulders to provide some support.

Hermione was not far behind, slipping into the room, and she moved on the other side of Lily, each one of them flanking her, prepared to catch her should she need them during her fall into sadness.

"I-It's…It's my fault," she stammered, emerald eyes glued to Peter's face. She was afraid that if she looked up and away from him that they would see her guilt. How utterly gutted she felt that he was dead and how she felt she had a hand in his demise.

"What? It is absolutely not your fault!"

"Lily, that's absurd. Voldemort did this."

Sirius and Hermione both spoke at the same time. Sirius' arm tightened around her shoulders and Hermione reached out to remove Lily's hands from holding Peter's.

"Don't say something like that, Lils. I'm not even sure why you would think that," Sirius said.

Lily shook her head, strands of her bright red hair falling in her face. "I wouldn't let James go—It's my fault! He wanted to go after him...on the solo patrol. He wanted to talk to him, to explain how much he loved him. But I…I—" The more she continued, the higher her voice went until it was squeaking with her overflowing emotions. The stream of tears spilling down her cheeks grew stronger with each word. "—I told James no. I told him we couldn't risk it. I was worried. The attacks have gotten worse and I didn't want to lose him, but now we lost Peter…and his parents lost their only son and it's my bloody fault!"

"Lily, it is absolutely not your fault!" Sirius' voice was stern, but comforting. Like a parent would speak to an upset child. Once Hermione had successfully pulled Lily's hands free, he turned the redheaded witch to face him, both of his hands resting on her shoulders. The fact she was shedding any tears for this traitor was maddening. Peter did not deserve an ounce of sympathy from anyone as far as Sirius was concerned. The growing bubble of rage he felt inside caused his fingers to twitch as he battled his resolve to not just shout the bloody truth from the rooftops. "Lils, Peter wasn't…he didn't…He was—"

"A grown man!" Hermione interjected quickly, her eyes wide as she shot Sirius a look in disbelief before shaking her head. Now was not the time! Fuck, it might never be the bloody right time. Lily and James did not deserve to know that their friend was a traitor, because Gods knew this was absolutely not about preserving Peter's integrity post-mortem. He was a scumbag who died by the hand of the very man he pledged his allegiance to. The bittersweet irony behind it was almost worth having to deal with the bullshit surrounding him. However, she was not sure how Lily and James would take the blow of their friendship being a sham at the end. A means to gather intel for Voldemort and his cronies. With Lily just barely pregnant, she wouldn't risk dropping that bombshell on her. "He made his own decisions. Nobody will ever blame you or James for his death. It was not your fault."

Lily looked over her shoulder to Hermione, trying to sniffle to stem her tears from falling. "B-But—"

"But nothing," Hermione insisted. Moving forward she laid a hand on her friend's back. "Lily. Peter made his own choices. He lived his life by a set of morals he thought that fit best," Hermione chose her words extremely carefully, making sure no lies of Peter's greatness seeped in, but rather skillful truths. "He was alone at the end, but by his own decision. Please believe me when I tell you that you played no part in his passing."

Sirius' jaw worked like he had a mouthful of tacks, the words he wanted to shout lingering on the tip of his tongue, begging for release. But he knew the look Hermione had given him all too well by now, and perhaps she was right. Maybe Lily didn't need to know the truth right now, but he would be damned if they lived their entire lives thinking that he died a hero. "She's right," he finally managed.

Lily nodded, glancing between her two friends before she looked back down to Peter's body on the table. She slowly moved from Sirius' hold back to touch Peter's hand once more, her fingers stroking softly against his hand as she let out a soft, stuttering breath. "His parents will come soon." Her voice was barely a whisper now, still quivering. "They…They shouldn't see him like this."

"Lils… I don't think they're going to mind, love," Sirius said.

"No. No parent should see their child like this, Sirius. Filthy and tattered." Her voice cracked again and a fresh wave of tears traveled down her cheeks before she could reach up and wipe them away. "We need to clean him. Change him into nice clothes. So his parents don't know how...how he looked when he died. He needs to be clean."

"Lily, maybe let's go sit down," Hermione suggested as she stepped beside her at the table. She was going into shock. The death, combined with a lack of food, was not helping her think clearly.

"H-Hermione, you can transfigure a suit, right? I can clean him up," Lily continued. Ignoring both Sirius and Hermione at this point, she moved to push up his sleeve to assess just how far the filth went up his limbs when Hermione reached out and quickly pulled her hands off him for the second time that evening.

Hermione watched in abject horror as the filthy sleeve of Peter's jumper was pushed up his arm, revealing the pale purplish skin beneath. All Lily would have to do was flip his arm over and she'd see it. She's see the mark that would make her already crumbling world cave in completely. "Lily stop it," Hermione snapped quickly. She pushed Lily back from the table, causing the witch to drop Peter's arm as she moved backwards. Reaching out, Hermione took Lily's shoulders in both hands and physically turned Lily until her back was to Peter. With nothing left to consume Lily's thoughts, her eyes found Hermione's in shock. "Lily, you need to stop this. You're making yourself ill. It's not good for the baby."

Lily gulped, her free hand dropping reflexively to cradle the flat of her belly. She was nowhere near the stages of pregnancy where she would begin to show. Baby Harry was barely the size of a golden snitch. But maternal instinct to protect one's young didn't seem to matter how tiny one's offspring was. "The baby," she repeated softly, as if suddenly remembering that she was pregnant.

"Yes, the baby." Hermione reached out tentatively before laying her hand on top of Lily's on her stomach. "You need to relax, or at least try to. And you have to eat something. We've brought breakfast."

Lily nodded as she took another stuttering breath, using it to try and calm herself down.

"If you go eat, I will clean him up a bit and try to mend his clothes. But his parents will want to use the ritual so he can pass on, right? They're pure-bloods, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Sirius spoke up from behind Lily where he stood watching the pair in silence. "Not Sacred Twenty-Eight old, but the name has been around a while. They'll know the ritual."

"See? So when he is laid to rest, he won't look like that, okay?" Hermione didn't wait for an answer. Instead she moved her hand from Lily's abdomen and she motioned for Sirius to come over to them. "But, I do agree. His parents shouldn't see him like this. So I'll do what I can, but you have to promise to eat and to calm down."

Lily nodded again, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she let her eyes drop to the floor. "Thank you," she barely managed out.

"Of course," Hermione gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze before she let Sirius usher her out of the kitchenette, leaving her alone with him. Pursing her lips together in thought, she approached the side of the table once more, and she carefully peeled up his sleeve before turning his arm over to reveal a mark she already knew was there. Dark. Foreboding. Disgusting. Her finger traced an outline around the mark, careful not to touch it even though she knew its magic was dead the moment the killing curse struck him. Lowering his sleeve with a soft tug, Hermione carefully laid his arm back on the table before she moved to the sink to fill a wash basin with some warm water. A kitchen towel was torn in half and she lowered them both into the steaming bowl before carrying it back over to the table.

Pushing up her sleeve, Hermione reached into the burning water to retrieve the first rag and as she wrung it out, she noticed the pink-purple scar on her forearm. Mudblood. Forever branded with one the most hateful words imaginable, she was the type of person Peter had begun to hate simply due to her blood status. And yet, she was cleaning his corpse because one of his oldest friends was concerned about how his parents would see him. As much as she knew he deserved this death, part of her could not help but feel sorry for him. He was loved so deeply by his friends, yet clearly could not see it. He did not understand his own self-worth. He had gone seeking acceptance because he assumed he was no longer needed. His own self-doubts fueling his need to seek acceptance and praise in the worst way possible. The truth was, Peter was the worst kind of Death Eater to join the ranks. Not because he was ruthless and cruel, not because he was the best dueller (far from it), and certainly not because he was an undeniable bigot. Peter was the worst kind of Death Eater because he went in seeking acceptance, even though he had a group of people who would follow him to the ends of the earth. He didn't understand the value of the love he had, and now it was too late. He would never know just how foolish he had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That beautiful aesthetic you're seeing was made for me by LadyKens347. I thought you might enjoy it as much as I did.
> 
> Sorry this update has taken me so long. I started a new job in December and thighs are picking up. The good news if I think I found my groove and will be able to get back to my once a week promise all my lovely readers. Please let me know how you're enjoying the story so far. Reviews help feed the muse deep in my soul!


	50. The Room of Hidden Things

**December 26th, 1979 - 17:01 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

The afternoon had been spent with the group of friends nestled inside the private quarters. At first the consuming silence loomed over the group, the weight of the night settling over each one of them like a weighted blanket, pressing the oxygen from their lungs. But after Minerva dropped off a plate of sandwiches for lunch for the group, the mood began to shift from mourning as a means to honour his passing and into the bittersweet remembrance of the Marauders' antics while they attended this castle.

The stories went all the way back to their very first year together, the coming together of what

Hermione was positive Minerva viewed as a seven year headache. She had heard some of them before from Sirius during the summer nights spent in Grimmauld Place. Back then they had been told with an almost wistful gleam in his eye, like he was looking back on the past with a longing to return to a time where his friends were still whole and complete. This time, it was different. The men each took turns telling the different parts of the same story that the others had forgotten until the pieced-together tale wove a clear memory in everyone's minds. Hermione couldn't help but wonder where it all went wrong with Peter, because every story told strengthened this bond between the four friends to rival what some family did not even contain.

The time passed more quickly from afternoon and into night, and by the time they reached seventh year, the belltower chimed signalling the start of dinner. As promised the group filed out of the room one by one and began to make the trek to the Great Hall to enjoy dinner with some of the faculty and students who had stayed during winter break.

Hermione and Sirius lingered towards the back of the group, purposefully slowing their pace until the rush of students separated them from their friends. Snagging his hand, Hermione lead the charge, moving briskly to the Grand Staircase. They had a little over an hour to go to the seventh floor, find the diadem, and return unnoticed. Pausing at the bottom step, letting a large ground of students descend, Hermione's eyes wandered up to watch the staircases float between floors, her heart racing.

Her mind wandered back to the first moment she stood at the bottom of this staircase, shoulder-to-shoulder with Neville, her eyes wide with wonder. At the time she thought it was the most marvelous thing in the world. A school of magic! She was going to be a real witch. But now? But it seemed almost daunting. Letting out a heavy sigh, Hermione let go of Sirius' hand to tuck her curls behind her ears as she mentally prepared for the climb. "You'd think the founders would have made a passage that would take us all the way to the higher floors without having to zig zag across the castle."

Sirius let out a small chuckle, gray eyes twinkling with a distinct mischief that belonged to all members of the Marauders. "I think they would rather make us suffer. But if secret passages are your thing, little bird, I know of a few that could be fun to explore."

"Oh yeah?" Hermione questioned, the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Brown eyes glanced towards a small group of students who seemed to be the last descending the stairs, and she waited, making sure they were out of ear shot before continuing. "I hope it's not the one beneath the one-eyed witch on the third floor. As much as I like Honeydukes I'm really not interested in knicking sweets."

Sirius stood stunned, his brows reaching his hairline. How could she possibly… There was no way...was there? Perhaps she stumbled across it in the library like he had. A hidden note tucked in an ancient Divination tome, it had taken him several months to figure out that the spell was meant to be used on that particular statute. He had spent the better part of two weeks walking around the castle whispering in various statues ears until he finally found the right one. She did mention she spent a lot of time in the library, and she was more than a little clever.

Hermione didn't wait for his response. Instead she flashed him a smile before taking off up the stairs quickly, her hand clutching the railing to help guide her over the disappearing step. Despite having not been in the castle in nearly two years, everything still felt like home. The smell, the sounds. They were all a familiar ambience that brought a sense of calm to her nervousness. When the sound of Sirius' heavy footsteps did not follow up, she glanced over her shoulder towards him and cocked her brow.

Sirius let out a small chuckle, his fingers carding through his black locks to push them from is face before he moved up the stairs two at a time to catch up to her. "So you know about the passage," he remarked as he caught up to her, moving beside her now that the parade of students shuffling down the hall decreased to a slow trickle. "But how about the one on the fourth floor?"

"You mean the one behind the mirror?"

"Shit, how do you know about that one!?" Sirius cursed, his brow furrowing. They moved off the first staircase and quickly up to the second, wasting no time in their ascent.

"Let's just say we had some help from some graduates," Hermione hinted, knowing full well this answer would not satisfy any sort of curiosity that Sirius held.

The remaining five floors were spent with Sirius inquiring about her knowledge of every single secret the castle held. From the passage that led from the boathouse to the Viaduct courtyard, all the way down to the passage underneath the Whomping Willow. It was almost adorable at first, him trying to stump her, like knowing more secrets about this castle was some sort of contest.

By the time they reached the Seventh Floor corridor, she had proven that there was no part of Hogwarts that Sirius held knowledge of that she did not.

"Wait, the room's down here," Hermione interrupted his inquisition as she stepped out of the stairwell on the landing. Two large suits of armor flanked the archway, as they had in her time, but the tapestry behind them almost made her doubt that had reached the correct floor. Sirius followed closely behind, gray eyes flickering past his girlfriend to peer down the hall. This floor was familiar. As it should be, considering he spent seven years here, but there was something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. As they moved down the hallway, he peered at the classrooms curiously, hoping they would reveal the secret that would make him remember.

As they walked down the hallway Hermione's mind chanted the same request over and over. She needed somewhere to hide something. She needed somewhere to hide something. It was simple, but from past experience she knew it would lead her directly to where she needed to go.

"Wait!" Sirius said a bit louder than necessary, causing Hermione to jump. "What floor are we on, little bird?!" His head whipped about, sending his shaggy black hair flying. He knew this floor. His heart thumped a happy beat as he looked around the hall. The tapestry of that idiot Barnabas the Barmy had kick-started his mind into remembering exactly what lay on this floor. The Come-and-Go room was something he was positive she held no knowledge of! Not even the professors knew of its existence. When they asked Minnie about it in fifth year, she acted like it was just a rumor. Like the Chamber of Secrets, some wild tale made up by students from long ago. Of course, he knew that place was real too, what with his girlfriend's panache for finding mortal danger.

"The seventh." Hermione turned around to face Sirius, watching as he began to walk backwards,

a wicked grin crossing over his lips. Oh no. That was never a good sign.

"I thought so. This is great. I can show you this fantastic room—" Sirius began, but before he could explain what made this secret little room so bloody great, Hermione broke out into laughter, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. "What's so funny?"

"Are you truly trying to show me to the Room of Requirement? You do know that is precisely what we are looking for, right?"

"Room of what?" Sirius replied quizzically, his head cocking to the side. "No. I want to show you the Come and Go room. It changes into anything you can possibly image! Moony turned it into a room where the floor was a big mattress one time. Best. Sex. Ever—next to shagging you, of course."

"That's the exact same room, Sirius. Room of Requirement, Come-and-Go Room, the Room of

Hidden Things. Look, whatever you want to call it, it's the same bloody room."

"But—How?—Did you lot try to find every damn secret this castle held?!"

While the Marauders were known for their antics and rule breaking, they were obviously not unique. Hell, Fred and George likely rivaled them in the prank department, but she would never tell her boyfriend that for fear of wounding his pride. "Sirius, I know you don't think of me as a rule breaker, but I can assure you that I was no saint while attending school," she began with an amused smile. "I went to school with James' son for Merlin's sake. After growing up with Harry and spending time with him, I'm almost positive that being impulsive is a hereditary trait."

Sirius' look of confusion washed away and in its place a wide smile came. Gray eyes twinkled in the soft light. "James' pup's a rule breaker?" Sirius questioned, brows lifting with hope, and when

Hermione gave a small reluctant nod of her head, Sirius let out a small crow of laughter. "Atta boy. Now that I'll be around, Uncle Sirius will make sure he knows all the secrets of this castle."

"You already handled that the first time around. Messr Padfoot," Hermione remarked with a small roll of her eyes.

Sirius laughed came to a slow stop as the nickname she used registered. "What did you call me?" he questioned quizzically.

"You heard me," Hermione bit her bottom lip as a sly smirk worked its way over her features. Turning her back to Sirius, Hermione began down the hallway with a small spring in her step, the request from her mind repeating over in her head as she moved past the tapestry once more.

"Did Moony tell you to call me that?" Sirius called out, not bothering to leave his spot towards the end of the hallway. It would do no good; he knew from first-hand experience multiple requests could often confuse the room. While he knew he really should be finding that stupid tiara turned dark artifact, a large part of him really wanted nothing more than request a truly depraved room and christen it with her.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she gave her head a small shake. "Remus and I do not typically discuss his time at Hogwarts, which should come as no surprise. I learned that little nickname on my own. Solemnly swearing I was up to no good and all that other nonsense. The four of you were very talented, but only seemed to use it for mischief."

"You had the map!?" Sirius looked more elated than before, his body practically brimming with unspent energy. "We thought Filch burned the thing. Merlin, wait until I tell Prongs! He'll be bloody ecstatic. Wait—do you think we can knick it from his office before we leave? Save it for baby Prongs when he goes to school."

Hermione picked up her leisurely pace as she moved toward Sirius once more, her third pass in front of the tapestry, and just as she was within arm's reach of her boyfriend a wooden door began to materialize on the wall. "And what will you tell James, exactly?" she questioned as she began to walk backwards towards the door, her brows lifting in an amused expression. "Oi, Prongs. Remember how little bird went to school with us? Well we lied. She's from the future and you'll never believe it, Filch didn't destroy our map! She used it to sneak around the castle when she went to school with your spawn." Dropping her voice an octave, she did her best Sirius impression, complete with a hair flip and the loose hipped swagger.

Sirius' jaw fell open, torn between bursting into laughter and tossing her over his shoulder to give her arse a firm swat. "Okay, little bird. First off, I do not sound like that," he defended. Moving after her, his hands found her waist, tugging her back into his front so he could lean down and place a kiss against the top of her head. "Secondly, I wouldn't tell him _you_ told me. I'd just say…Peeves did?"

Hermione snorted, leaning into his embrace for a second longer than necessary, enjoying the warmth that seeped into her from his touch before she pushed open the door. "Let's revisit that conversation after we find the diadem, okay?" Walking across the threshold into the room, Hermione slipped from Sirius' grasp. She heard the door automatically close behind them with a loud thud, the noise echoing off the cavernous walls around them. It was shortly followed by a sharp intake of breath in surprise from her boyfriend. She knew his shock well, for even now, after having been in here before, the room almost felt more impressive than the last time she had seen it. Maybe it was because they were in a hurry, or the fact there was a war raging outside, but whatever it was, it was obvious she had not gotten a proper look at the sheer size of this version of the room.

The room was easily the size of a cathedral. The room rivaled the Quidditch Pitch in length; its high reaching walls surely breached the castle's boundaries. Sirius stood dumbfounded, his eyes wide with shock as he looked around them at thousands of objects. Old broomsticks, books, piles of desks and chairs were just a small sampling of was stored in here. How would they ever find a bloody piece of jewelry in this trash heap? Shaking his head in disbelief, Sirius lifted a hand to rub against the back of his neck.

Hermione glanced behind her, watching as Sirius looked around the room like a first year student serving detention polishing the numerous trophies in the awards room. Daunting, endless, and with little hope. She had scrubbed the shine back into the gold medals her fair share of times, and Merlin only knew how many times the Marauders had faced a similar fate. With a gentle sway of her hip, she nudged her shell-shocked boyfriend, pulling his attention down to her. "Supposed it's a good thing I've found this once before, huh?" she teased, giving him a small smile.

Immediately relief washed over him, the tension that built in his shoulders releasing with a heavy breath as he gave her a small nod. Lucky was more like it, although everything about their relationship seemed to be built on that fate, wasn't it? Like he had downed gallons of Felix Felicis and the world lead her straight into his arms. Sirius moved in silence after Hermione as she began to wind her way through the labyrinth, his hands moving into the front pockets of his jeans.

Passing a stuffed troll, Hermione's eyes drifted to an empty stop in the room where in her timeline a Vanishing Cabinet once stood. It wasn't here yet, it wasn't needed. The Death Eater attacks had increased, but they were still under-reported by the Ministry and the Prophet. Voldemort's fear had not just penetrated deeply enough to where parents felt the need to send these artifacts with their children to school. She could only hope that they would be able to accomplish her mission before Voldemort's reign of terror reached that point.

"Little bird," Sirius broke the penetrating silence between them, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip in thought. "I've been thinking."

"Yeah?"

"After we stop him—Voldemort— and you go back…when will you remember me? Remember this?"

That exact same question had lingered in the back of her mind for weeks now. When she went back, she would know Sirius immediately, as it would only be seconds since she left him. But for him, it would be years. Decades. He would be in her life as a child, she held no doubts, but when would these memories come back? Would she go on to be an Auror and go on the same missions? Or would she wake up with a fresh slate when her toes hit the earth in 1999? Time travel was a new unknown, the effects on how one handled the change were still being explored. Hell, she could be considered a pioneer of sorts on the subject. She held no doubts that she would be required to document her work once returned, and hopefully she wouldn't have to do the analysis from a cell in Azkaban if things went according to plan. "Honestly? I have no idea."

"…oh."

As chatty as Sirius normally was, the weight of his one syllable reply felt like a boulder on her chest. Hermione let her eyes drop to the floor, staring at the dirty stone flooring, watching her boots beat against it before she stopped walking to turn around and face him. They were here for the diadem, and this was not the place or time to have this conversation, but she couldn't let the unspoken worry fester inside him. She promised to be open and honest with him. She promised to share this burden. She promised to let him in. "Sirius, I have no idea what will happen when I go back. Time travel is…it's bloody awful. If it weren't for you waiting here, I'm not sure I would have done it so many bloody times," she confessed. Reaching out she pulled his right hand from his pocket to lace their fingers together. "Every time I've gone back, my thoughts were consumed with you. Even if my memories were different when I return, on some subconscious level I would know you…this version of you."

Gray eyes stayed fixed on their hands, not daring to lift to her face just yet. How did she know this? How could she promise to be his when she didn't know what would happen when she returned? These unanswered questioned plagued his mind more the closer they got to finishing this. A year was ticking by quicker than he even anticipated, like a doomsday clock. When the day finally came, would he be okay with the hope that she would be his one day again? "Hermione…I'm not sure what I would do if you…if you…if you forgot," he struggled to verbalize, slowly lifting his face until their eyes found one another.

"I would never truly forget…I just might need help remembering." Leaning forward, her free hand lifted to his cheek. Her thumb swept across the short stubble, tracing the sharp angle of his back as she rose on her toes to give him a gentle kiss. "Stop thinking the worst. We have time together still, and we still have to stop Voldemort so we can ensure you're there to remind me when I go back," she reminded him in a whisper.

Pulling his hand from his pocket, Sirius wrapped his arm around her waist as he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes fluttering closed. Life had dealt him a rough deck already. Shitty parents, shitty family, unloved and no affection for so long. His silver lining had forever been his friends, but now she was here. She was the sunlight to the darkness inside him, showing him that despite it all, he could be loved. With his rough beginning in mind, it only made sense that he would have to wait another twenty years to have her again. The fates were not going to allow him to get off that easy. "It's not nearly long enough."

"It'll have to be," she reminded him, her fingers toying with the ends of his shaggy black hair.

"Once this is over, we are spending the rest of our time locked in my room." Sirius pulled back from their intimate hold to look down at her, gray eyes swirling with promise.

"What about bathroom breaks? And food? We will need nourishment," Hermione teased as her fingers tucked his hair behind his ear.

"I can make the kitchen work if you want a change of venue, and I can allow restroom breaks but only sparingly," he joked, a little bit of levity returning to his voice.

"Oh how generous of you. I highly doubt Moony will appreciate us shagging in his kitchen though."

"We've done it before," Sirius reminded her in a singsong tone. "What's another time or four?"

"Yes, but he wasn't around when we did." Hermione smiled as the memory flooded back of the frantic coupling with her pinned to the refrigerator. Remus had gone to fetch dinner and left them alone for just enough time for a quickie. The thrill of getting caught only added more fuel to the fire that burned between them. By the time Remus returned with the fish and chips, Hermione was in the shower, letting the hot water lick the ache away from her spine, missing what Sirius had described as Moony's sour lemon face when the lingering scent of sweat and sex hit his nose. "I think the bedroom will suffice just fine when the time comes."

"But enough of this talk. We need to find the bloody diadem and get back to the room." With one last gentle kiss, Hermione slipped from his hold before he could tempt her into nefarious acts with his kisses. Keeping their hands firmly intertwined, she began down the pathway once more, tugging Sirius along with her. It was just around the corner, from what she could remember. Beyond the stack of forgotten textbooks and trunks full of Merlin only knew what.

"Is it on something? Or in something?" Sirius questioned, resigned to help her find this bloody needle in a haystack. Gray eyes floated around the room, trying to spot the hint of a sparkle that might indicate jewelry was mixed in with the long forgotten treasures stored in this room.

"It was on the stone bust of a man when we found it last time," Hermione supplied as her pace slowed to a crawl. It was close. It had to be. This looked familiar. The collection of beaters bats, the table of empty bottles, the dusty looking cupboards. Just as she was about to tug them further into the maze of mess, it came into view. Her heart stopped and almost instantly she was filled with a piercing coldness that started in the center of her soul and radiated out. Next to the pockmarked stone bust sat the diadem on top of a wig of a dusty wig, looking as ancient and unassuming as it had the first time she saw it.

Unlacing their fingers, Hermione moved wordlessly toward the cupboard and she rose up on her toes to pluck the diadem from its hiding place. The metal arm scrapped against wooden surface of the cupboard, causing goosebumps to pop up on her skin in response. "Found it."

Sirius moved next to her, his eyes dropping to the diadem. She held the twisting tarnished metal cautiously, as if at any second it would swallow them both whole. Sirius reached out and ran his index finger over the dusty oval sapphire, watching now beneath the depths of the precious stone there seemed to be a cloud swirling. From what he understood, each Horcrux possessed a part of Voldemort's soul, but it almost seemed as if in addition, it froze his soul in the place in time that it was created. The diary showed Voldemort as a teenager, spiteful, filled with untapped rage, while the ring showed him as he was now. An adult, bitter, jaded and positively furious. He was curious as to what version of the supposed Dark Lord would show when they destroyed the ancient piece of jewelry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy...Smokes... FIFTY Chapters. Thank you all for sticking with me through this story, I love every single review I read. I'm crap at responding, but know I read and enjoy every single one of them. I hope you enjoy the update. We are winding up for the final climax of the story, if you can't tell ;) so buckle up. Stuffs about to get a little crazy.
> 
> Just a heads up, I'm going to probably take a week or two to update next. My plan is to chapter by chapter plot this story to completion. My estimate is we have less than fifteen chapters left, but I will have a definitive answer for you next update! I love you all for you're amazing reviews. keep them coming, they help inspire me more than you realise!
> 
> Thank you to Islandgurl777 for being my Beta. she is fabulous. I adore her. Huge thanks to KnitKnitRead & Disenchantedglow for being the best alpha's ever.


	51. Casualties

**December 31** **st** **, 1979 - 19:14 - Godric's Hollow**

" _Salvio Hexia_." Hermione's wand left a trail of wispy achromatic smoke in the crisp winter air as she dragged the wand diagonally in front of her, her left hand held aloft, providing a physical border for the invisible defensive spell. Brown eyes watched as the first protective enchantments enveloped the house, wrapping around it like a translucent blanket. She could feel the tingle of an ancient familial magic in the air, pouring from her soul with each flick and flourish of her wand. In order for these spells to work one had to truly wish for the layers of protection for the desired object. They must want it to work so badly and desperately they wished for nothing else—just like with an Unforgivable—except instead of wishing harm, it was the exact opposite. As the enchantment settled in, it caused the falling snow that cascaded from the sky like powdered sugar to shimmer as it crossed the invisible border. Had she not just set the charm herself, she would just assume it was just an optical illusion caused by the setting sun behind her.

Dropping her left hand, she pointed her wand towards the snow-covered roofline. A small shiver ran down her spine as she spoke her next words, " _Protego Horribilis._ " She had hoped to never have to use these charms ever again. She had only learned them from necessity in preparing for the first Horcrux hunt with Harry and Ronald. They were complex, one of the hardest bits of magic she had ever encountered—it had taken her weeks upon weeks of practice to finally get them right nearly two years ago. But it wasn't the finesse it took to cast them just right that made her wish to not use them again. It was how bloody draining they were. It felt like she took every last ounce of her magic to summon the protective layers. One after another, depleting her resources until she felt like an empty well. Her magic felt weak afterwards, like she wouldn't even be able to defend herself should the need arise. It make her feel vulnerable and powerless. But it was worth the risk now just as it had been back then. She would have set these wards thousands of times and depleted her magical resources until nothing was left inside her if it meant James, Lily and future baby Harry were safe.

" _Protego Maxima...Fianto Duri...Repello Inimicum._ " Silent blasts of bluish white and yellow enchantments puffed from the end of her wand like smoke from a dragon's nose. The flashes of magical light illuminated the darkening neighborhood like a light flickering on and off, leaving a trail of iridescent smoke in the sky as they began to drop a shield around the Potters' homestead, effectively sealing it off from the outside world. The tendrils of magic spread wide, creating a half dome over the humble two-story, the magic spreading like spider's silk, criss crossing, weaving the glowing blue threads of magic together until a solid barrier formed around the house, and when the glow of magic struck the earth, the glow intensified for half a heartbeat before it faded into nothingness, leaving the house looking as unassuming as any other in the quiet neighborhood. The only difference between it and the near identical copies that littered the community was that now instead of the inviting and warm feeling one should feel when they saw the brown home nestled in the snow with glittering Christmas lights lining the room like gumdrops on a gingerbread house, those that were not provided clearance from the ward would feel a growing pit of despair and fear low in their bellies.

The fateful news of Sybill Trelawney's prophecy had broken only three days prior. The Order members were given a full recount of what happened from Dumbledore directly, and while many were scratching their heads as to who had crossed with Voldemort on three occasions, Hermione, Sirius and Remus already knew the answer. It wasn't until Severus and Regulus relayed intel that Voldemort had set his eyes on both the Potters and the Longbottoms that The Order began taking measures to ensure the growing families were protected.

Dumbledore insisted that both households use a Fidelius Charm as a means of protection, but Hermione was quick to voice her concerns. She couldn't argue that the ancient magic would keep them the safest, but—as she knew from second-hand experience—finding a Secret Keeper whose loyalty was unwavering was the issue. Even the strongest of witches and wizards caved under the power of a well-placed Cruciatus Curse, or Imperius. Then there was the small fact that Voldemort was quite possibly the most powerful living Legilimens to date. While the Order members were steadfast and faithful, she knew they would stand no match against the mastery of Dark Arts the Death Eaters and their leader possessed. Beyond that, the emotional toll that had to be taken by a Secret Keeper was too large, mainly due to the nature of keeping such an important secret. If anything were to slip and something happened, knowing you were the reason for the death of your friends was enough to drive any man or woman insane with guilt.

It took much convincing, but eventually Dumbledore relented and allowed Hermione to ward both homes as a first attempt at keeping both the Potters and Longbottoms safe under strictly-enforced house confinement. She appreciated the lackluster faith the elderly wizard clearly had in her magic and prayed it would be enough to keep the monsters at bay—at least until they had found that bloody cup.

With her magic waning, the exertion of the protective layers nearly draining every ounce of energy left in her bones, Hermione took a heavy breath—the bitter cold air of the winter's night burning her lungs and she lifted her wand to cast the final ward. " _Proteg-"_

_CRACK!_

The beginning of her final spell lingered in the air. The swirl of white light that had begun to emanate from the tip of her wand vanished into darkness as a sudden burst of wind blew her curls violently about her face. She felt the ground beneath her feet shake when whatever caused the noise landed behind her, and immediately the smell of freshly fallen snow was replaced by the rancid odor of death. Sulfur. Sweat. Rotting flesh. Her mind instantly went back to the crystal cove and the instinctive prickle of danger caused the baby fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. Whatever appeared behind her meant danger, and while she was in no position to stay and fight, her grip tightened on her vinewood; the etchings of the leaves and twisting vines bit into her palm sharply as she spun around to find the source of the noise.

An inky figure stood out in the picturesque snow-covered neighborhood like a blot on the landscape. They stood about twenty yards away from her in the middle of the road. Black robes billowed in the soft breeze, white flurries of snow already beginning to cling to the oversized hood, and there in the middle of the darkened face sat a silver mask, etched with jagged black filigree, and a wire cage protruded around the lined mouth. A Death Eater. Hermione inhaled sharply, brown eyes widening infinitesimally as she tried her best to not let the immediate tidal wave of fear overwhelm her. No matter how many fucking times she came face to face with these bastards in those masks, there was an immediate instinct that told her to run and hide. She still had nightmares about them—the gleaming masks, the cackling laughter that rippled around the room disorientingly as she fought through the pain of the Cruciatus. It was one of the worst moments in her life. One she would never forget. Which was why she stood frozen in place, her heart thumping painfully beneath her chest, as she fell back into an all too familiar fear.

As fear turned her feet to stone, her grip on the vinewood tightened even further. Her knuckles blossomed white under the pressure and she could feel the blood rush away from her fingertips. Her mind raced with the possibilities of what she needed to do to make it out of here alive. Her magic was weak, and she felt faint, but she needed to disarm them. Better yet, she needed to knock them unconscious and bind them before they were able to return to the snake pit they crawled out of and tell this location to their fellow Death Eaters. But before she could do any of that, she really needed to find the courage to move from the spot her body had so clearly grown roots in. She needed to find her fucking voice through the penetrating fear and protect her loved ones who lay just beyond the ward set behind her.

Preparing for a firefight, Hermione took a staggering breath. The world felt like it was moving in slow motion. The way the snow flurries drifted down from the sky, clinging desperately their clothing. It was like she could make out the unique shape of every bloody snowflake. Or the way the porchlights from the house behind the figure flickered on as a head slowly poked through the curtains to find the source of the noise. Everything was and nothing seemed to be happening at once, and just as she began to lift her wand towards the masked enemy, she watched the Death Eater stumble forward under an invisible weight. It wasn't the confident march of a madman or -woman she had been expecting. Instead, the figure staggered before her before their knees finally gave out after only two weak steps towards her, and they toppled face first into a thick blanket of snow. Their hands did not bother to lift to cushion their fall; instead they stayed clutching their abdomen through the thick black robes.

The sickening sound of their body hitting the ground made her jump, and it was only when the figure lay unmoving on the ground that Hermione realised that the snowfall they lay in was no longer pristine and white. Instead, the ivory whitescape was ruined by jarring splashes of crimson that seemed to be coming from the Death Eater.

Hermione's brow knit in confusion as she watched the figure lay face down in the snow. She watched as white flurries landed on their back, temporarily peppering their back in white before melting into the fabric. Why weren't they moving? Was this a trick? Would others follow? But when the person still had not moved after what felt like an eternity and no further Death Eaters appeared she realised what was going on. This person wasn't coming to find them—they were running to them!

"Oh shit!" Hermione cursed under her breath as she began across the road towards the prone Death Eater. This wasn't a bloody enemy, it was a ally! Her lungs burned in the frosty winter air as her quick jaunt moved into a full sprint. There were only two people on this planet who would wear those robes and claim allegiance to The Order. "Don't be Reg. Please, don't be fucking Regulus," she whispered out loud, her voice shaking through the efforts of her spring and she slid to a stop after falling to her knees in the snow next to the hooded figure. Trembling hands dropped her wand next to her knees before she moved to roll the Death Eater to their right shoulder to rest in her lap. Reaching out, her fingers curled around the bottom of the cold mask and she pulled it from the unconscious figure and cast it into the snow.

Her heart skipped a beat as she inhaled sharply. Brown eyes widened in recognition as she gasped his name. "R-Reg." No. no. no! How could this have happened?! Regulus looked pale—paler than usual. Under his eyes were heavy purple and black bags, and his lips were already morphing into sickly shades of blue-gray. He was fading fast. It was obvious that he had used the very last ounce of energy he had to get himself here and she couldn't help but wonder what the hell would have happened if she had not been outside when he landed. Did he succumb to his wounds because he recognized her, or would he have make it to the Potters' door? She tried to push the morbid thoughts from her mind as her hands tore at his robes to find the sources of his bleeding. "F-fuck, Reg. Hang in t-there. I-I got you," she told the unconscious man, although she couldn't be sure if it was more for her benefit or for his. As she fought through the layers, she finally found the part in his robes, and she peeled them open to reveal his body underneath. He had worn a white oxford, and in the middle of his body lay three massive wounds. Two in his abdomen, and one in his chest. The ones in his gut seemed worse than the other, as crimson blood spilled freely from them and trickled across his torso and into the snow. "Oh my god," she gasped, eyes widening as she looked over the damage, all of the basic healer training she had taken instantly vanishing. She had healed hex wounds, dittanied minor scrapes and bruises, but this was…this was the worst she had ever seen! Whoever had done this to him was clearly intent on making sure he did not live to see tomorrow.

Trembling hands lowered towards the gashes on his abdomen, fingers scooping uselessly at the leaking blood as she tried to bring it back towards the wound. "I-I got you. Y-You're going to b-b-be okay," she stammered, tears breaching her eyes and spilling down her cheeks unbidden. This was not good. She needed to stay composed. She needed to remember what the bloody hell she was supposed to do in a situations like this! Regulus needed her help. He needed her so he didn't—so he didn't die!

"H-HELP!" Hermione screamed into the night, terror ripping her vocal chords to shreds as she fought her emotions to try and get him help. She couldn't risk pulling her hands away from the wound, fearing that if she removed the pressure he would bleed out before help could come. If she screamed loud enough, maybe someone would come? Maybe James or Remus would hear and they would come! "PLEASE HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!" She could feel Regulus' body grow more and more listless in her lap. His life force was escaping his body with each weak beat from his heart and her pleas for help grew more frantic, but nobody came. She wasn't sure if it was because the neighbors saw what he was—the mask still lay only inches from her in the snow— or if they were afraid that whatever attacked him would come too, but nonetheless, no one was coming.

Withdrawing a crimson covered hand from his abdomen, Hermione snatched her fallen wand from beside her knee and she fought through her tears and summon the weakest version of her patronus she had ever cast before. She pleaded for her friends to come outside, her voice breaking with tears and terror as she told them it was Regulus. He was injured and needed their help. She told them they needed to hurry because he might not make it. And just like that, the last of her magical energy vanished into the night in the form of a swimming otter. She set her wand down before returning her hands to Regulus' middle, palms pressing over the wounds, trying her best to quell the blood flow. Yet despite her efforts, she could feel the blood pulse through her fingers, like water through a rocky ravine, destined to make its way to the surface. "S-Someone's coming, R-Reg. They're c-coming. It'll be okay. Just hang in there."

The sound of the wind ripping around them did little to mask the rattling wheeze coming from the unconscious Regulus. Blood was spilling into his lungs. She knew the sound instantly, and before she could prevent it, her body collapsed over his. Her elbows had buckled under the pressure and in this moment she felt hopeless. Another person was going to die because she failed. First Arthur, Ron and Ginny, and now Regulus. She was supposed to fix things. She was supposed to make it right, but it seemed like all she was able to do was make it worse. Her trembling hands stayed on his middle, feebly covering his wounds as she felt his breathing shift. He began to take short, shallow breaths, his body fighting to keep up with the most basic of functions now. He was going to die in her arms. He was seconds away from being welcomed into Death's sweet embrace and no one was coming.

She didn't know how much time has passed, but it felt like an eternity as she watched him through tears in the fading light, praying for a miracle. Praying someone would come—anyone. She begged him to hold on, afraid that if she stopped talking he would lose whatever grip he still had on this world, and just as she felt her own hope waning, she heard the front door to the Potter's slam open. The force in which it was thrown open rattled the windows on the front of the humble home. Her eyes lifted from the dying man and she looked to the house in the distance. "O-OVER HERE!" Her voice was raw, from the combination of her tears and screams for help earlier, but she pushed through the searing pain, screaming louder than before until she watched three dark figures run towards where she lay in the street with Regulus, the snow still falling around them.

"They're coming! Don't go, Regulus. They're coming," she cried to the unconscious wizard, her eyes dropping to his face. "Just hold on. Please h-hold on."

She could hear the crunch of boots running in the snow and out of the corner of her eye she watched them appear in her peripheral vision but she refused to look up to see who stood before her. It wasn't until the tingle of magic whizzed beneath her fingertips, letting her know that someone had cast something to stop the bleeding, that she finally looked up to see James kneeling beside her and telling her she needed to let go, and they would take it from here.

Hermione nodded, trembling hands lifting from Regulus' abdomen, and she fell back off her knees in the crimson colored snow. Her hands lifted to push back her curls and she finally succumbed to the overwhelming horror of watching someone she had begun to care about slip away from her again. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry."

Remus swore under his breath as he approached, having been the second one from the house, and his eyes flickered between Hermione, Regulus' prone body and James who was struggling to lift Regulus from the snow. "What happened?"

Hermione shook her head, blood now smeared across her pale cheeks. "I-I—He just—Showed up—I don't know!" she stammered.

"Shit," Remus cursed and he spun on the spot when he heard Sirius' heavy footfall approaching. Reaching out he tried to move his body in front of his best friend's to prevent him from seeing. "Sirius. It's…You—"

"Out of the bloody way, Moony!" Sirius snarled, shoving past his friend, and when gray eyes landed on the image of his brother laying in the crimson colored snow, his body near lifeless, and his girlfriend only feet away covered in red, his heart stopped. He staggered backward two steps, reaching out to cling to Remus so he didn't topple to the ground. No words could form in his throat as he watched James wave his wand over his brother, golden threads of magic wrapping like ropes around Regulus' limp body and securing him to an invisible board that would keep him secure as he was levitated into the house.

"Sirius, help me." James' voice cut through the cold winter air as he held his wand firmly, not releasing the binding spell.

Sirius heard the words, but in this moment nothing registered. His face lost all color, and all sources of light and happiness were missing from his normally expressive eyes as he stood frozen, watching his baby brother lay there and breathe like he was taking his last breaths. In this moment it felt like his entire world was crumbling around him, and everything he held dear was falling into a black abyss. His relationship with his family was complicated—at best—but Regulus was different. Regulus was his brother. Regulus was good. He said it was safe! He said he was careful. He said there was nothing to bloody worry about, but this obviously wasn't safe. He was bleeding out in the snow! He was fucking dying and Mum and Dad would blame him. He lied. He fucking lied and he got hurt, and it was all his fault. It was his bloody job to keep him safe and he failed—yet again.

" _Sirius_! Help Me!"

Sirius jumped, looking up to James who was still holding the binding spell on his brother. "I-I...How?"

"We need to get him inside. We can call for help, but we need him out of the snow. Levitate him... _now!_ "

Nodding his head, Sirius withdrew his ironwood wand and cast the wordless charm. He watched Regulus lift from the ground, threads of black hair hanging loose towards the snow covered-ground. James lead the charge, thankfully, and began toward the house, only allowing Sirius to give his girlfriend a fleeting glance as he began to move to bring his brother in from the cold.

Hermione remained unmoving on the ground, the bitter cold sinking past her jeans and into bones, as she watched James and Sirius move towards the house with Regulus floating between them. A trail of crimson ruining the snow behind them. She felt hands on her shoulders, and as Remus hoisted her from the ground, the overwhelming metallic scent of blood finally hit her and her stomach churched violently. Turning towards Remus, a trembling hand lifted to press on his arm, using him for support as her knees quaked, threatening to give out. "He's going to be alright…right? T-Tell me he's going to m-make it, Remus."

Remus bit his bottom lip and all he could do was give Hermione a solemn nod that even he didn't believe. Reaching out he wrapped his arms around the blood-soaked witch and pulled her into his chest, letting her bury her face against his thin maroon colored jumper. The snow fell around them still, and the frosty air bit at his cheeks as he held his weeping friend in his arms, and yet despite the snowfall and the icy temperatures, it all didn't seem as cold in comparison to the sinking realisation that their lives could be taken from them at any moment. That nothing was certain anymore—especially what this war would bring.

* * *

**January 13th, 1980 - 10:14 - Godric's Hollow**

The New Year was supposed to bring hope, and happiness. It was supposed to be a time of where friends and family gathered, where midnight kisses were exchanged and resolutions made. But as the New Year ushered in a new era, no one inside Godric's Hollow felt like celebrating much.

Lily summoned a Healer from St. Mungo's immediately after her diagnostic spell came back. The wounds on his chest and abdomen were far worse than they appeared. He'd been attacked with a cursed blade. The black magic was literally eating him from the inside out. There would be no means in which they could heal the damage themselves. They needed help and quite possibly a fucking miracle. With quick thinking, Lily summoned a blood replenishing potion from the bathroom and forced the elixir down Regulus, praying it would buy them enough time for reinforcements to arrive.

The healer was a large middle-aged witch–an old friend of Alastor's who had been recruited into helping the Order. While her specialty lay in the realm of spell damage, the gruff looking witch did not blink twice before rolling up her sleeves and sterilizing the room. She cast everyone out—despite Sirius' insistence he stay—and she spent the next four hours working tirelessly to save Regulus' life.

By the time she walked down the staircase to provide the final status update on the wizard, her graying hair was spilling from her bun, blood was splattered across her gown and she looked like she had just run from Edinburgh to Godric's Hollow, but despite the odds, she breathlessly announced Regulus was stable. They would need to make sure he took minor blood replenishing potions over the course of the next week, in addition to drinking a specialty tea brewed from carnivorous mushrooms, asphodel blossoms, and scarab beetle wings twice daily. Although his wounds would heal, the corrosion from the cursed black was irreversible. Regulus would forever bear a physical reminder of his near death experience.

Sirius lay each day at the end of Regulus' bed, protectively curled up in his animagus form, keeping a watchful eye over his baby brother as he healed. He refused meals, consumed by grief, and it was only when Hermione pointed out that Sirius would be physically unable to protect Regulus in the event that someone traced Regulus' whereabouts to the Potters' home unless he ate a bloody meal, that he finally relented.

By day four, Regulus finally awoke long enough to figure out that he had been ushered away from Death's embrace, and that he was convalescing in the Potters' home. He couldn't argue, seeing as he could barely keep his eyes open, let alone move. But what he did manage to do before he drifted off to sleep was summon his ever faithful friend—Kreacher.

The House Elf's magic overrode the layers upon layers of wards Hermione placed on the home, and he had apparated right into the bedroom. The wrinkly House Elf was immediately distraught and accused Sirius of harming his 'sweet master Regulus' before using a bit of magic to throw him from the bedroom. It took nearly four hours, death threats and promises of helping to finally get Kreacher to trust Hermione enough to allow her into the room to deliver Regulus' potions that night.

It was now nearly a fortnight since that fateful December night and it was obvious the close confines of everyone being stuck in Godric's Hollow were growing weary on all parties involved. The Puddlemere flat had been compromised. Not two days after Regulus' arrival did wards and alarms go off, signaling dark magic had been used to aid in forced entry. The entire flat had been ransacked. Every piece of furniture overturned, the photographs on the wall shattered and an ominous threat of returning to find them had been etched into the wall with an altered blasting charm. Remus collected what he found of their things—what remained in one piece at the very least—and said goodbye to the first place that ever felt like home for him.

With nowhere left to go, and Regulus bedridden, they all made living in Godric's Hollow work the best they could. Hermione promised they would be out soon, they just needed to find a place, and Regulus needed to get well enough to travel on his own. James and Lily both insisted they didn't mind, but after Lily was called a Mudblood for the fourteenth time by a rather disgruntled House Elf, it was clear that soon needed to happen sooner than later.

Which was why Hermione was in the process of packing up the things Kreacher had snuck over from Grimmauld Place into a borrowed trunk, laughing under her breath at the absurd argument between her boyfriend and his younger brother. They had been given permission from Dumbledore to relocate to the Tutshill cottage. It was far enough away from Puddlemere that Death Eaters shouldn't find them, it was Unplottable, and already secure. It would also allow the Potters to have their home back and prepare for the arrival of their unborn child.

"I'm not a bloody invalid, Sir'! I can do it myself," Regulus snapped, growing impatient with Sirius' constant hovering. Between him and Kreacher, it was like he never had a moment's rest. Someone was always adjusting his covers, or asking if he wanted something. If he bloody _wanted_ something, he would have fucking asked!

"Do it yourself? You almost bloody died, you pillock!" Sirius growled, ignoring his brother's barbed words as best he could as he placed a supportive hand on his brother's back to help out from the bed.

"I am quite aware of my own misfortunes," Regulus growled as he reached behind him, swatting blindly at his brother's wrist. "It doesn't mean I require assistance doing basic functions—such as walking or taking a piss."

Hermione snorted, teeth sinking into her bottom lip to try and contain the laughter. Sirius had turned into something of a mother hen since finding his brother hurt. It was more than a little endearing to see him so keen to take care of someone, but she couldn't blame Regulus. He was going a bit overboard. Regulus' wounds were nearly entirely healed, and he was no longer on the potions or the tea. If it were the residual pain, she figured the wizard would likely be as right as rain.

Sirius rolled his eyes, taking the light abuse from his brother and ignoring his flailing. Instead he pressed gently on his back, helping him slide off the mattress to stand before it, arms at the ready to catch his brother should he fall. "If memory serves me, you asked Little bird to help you get dressed this morning, so clearly you are in need of my assistance."

"Uh...I hate to interrupt, but you do know the only reason he asked me was because he tried to look down my blouse," Hermione piped up, glancing over her shoulder to the men.

"What? No...that's not—wait...is that true?!" Sirius turned his eyes from his girlfriend back to his brother, brows lifted in disbelief.

Regulus shrugged, gritting his teeth through the sting of pain in his abdomen. He took two tentative steps forward, making sure his footing was secure on the ground before he straightened his spine, taking his time as he made his way towards the bedroom door. "Not entirely. I thought if she caught a look at me in my undergarments she might realise she chose the wrong brother."

"You little shit!" Sirius gasped, grabbing a pillow from the bed, and he tossed it across the room at his brother. "I'm over here trying to bloody help you, and you're trying to show your knob to my girlfriend!"

"I can't imagine it's hard for her not to notice. It being so lar-"

"That's quite enough!" Hermione interjected, setting the last of the folded blankets in the trunk before closing the heavy lid with a snap. "How about we just focus on getting to Tutshill, okay? I've got one of the rooms already set up for you, Regulus. You'll be bunking with Remus until your stomach's all healed."

Regulus huffed, his hand on the doorknob. "Sure I can't persuade you to trade placed with Wolfy? I'd be far better company than big brother."

"Afraid not," she replied with a roll of her eyes and a well-placed shake of her head before she pulled her wand from her pocket and cast the shrinking charm on the trunk. "Now down you get. Please let your brother help you down the stairs. I really don't feel like fire-calling Marjorie again."

Regulus grumbled under his breath was he exited the room, something about her being delusional and him not needing help.

As Sirius crossed the room to follow after his brother, he stopped to press a kiss against the top of her head, silently thanking her for her help. Hermione picked up the shrunken trunk, tucking it under her arm before she glanced around the room, making sure it was all in order so Lily wouldn't have to lift a finger upon their departure, and just as she was about to ask one last cleansing spell on the floor, the sound of a loud thump echoed from downstairs up into the room.

"Oh bloody hell," she cursed, turning quickly to exit the room and head down to the first floor. She told Sirius to watch him; if he ripped his incision again Marjorie was going to be furious with them. Worse, she would not hear the end of it from Kreacher. Her curls bounced wildly in her ponytail as she ran down the stairs. "What happ—"

Instead of finding a fallen Regulus, what she walked into was James vanishing a broken glass from the livingroom floor, while Regulus looked in awe at a curio cabinet that sat against the far wall of the living room. "I...I remember!" he stammered, pink tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips.

Regulus' memories of that night had been hazy, at best. What he could remember was mainly the attack. Voldemort's mental state was constantly on the edge of mania and sanity. One moment the leader was clear and concise, but then seconds later he was demanding the hearts of Muggles who wronged him from his youth. It had been harder and harder to keep up with the mood swings of the once-charismatic leader. Yet, despite the obvious rising tide of insanity, all of the Death Eaters stayed quiet. They knew that even if he was mad, he was still one of the most powerful men in the world.

Regulus had played his part of silent observer, but that night—New Year's Eve—he had taken things too far. Voldemort turned his anger on one of the newest recruits. Regulus didn't even know boy's name, or if he had officially taken the Mark, but he saw something in the young man that he recognized in himself. Fear. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable—perhaps only being here upon his family's instance. When Voldemort sent the curse across the room, knocking the boy from his feet, Regulus' body lurched involuntarily. He fought back the urge to run and protect him as he writhed on the ground. Cruciatus after Cruciatus pulled screams of agony into the air, yet Regulus stayed silent, his eyes cast on the floor. It was only when he heard the slicing hex rip across the flesh of the young boy, did he finally crack. He'd moved out of line, breaking rank from the rest of the Death Eaters as he cast a shield charm over the bloodied boy. He deflected his master's curses as he tried to save him, but in the end it was useless. Voldemort overpowered his attempts at sparing an innocent life, and made him watch as he tortured the boy with a blade before turning the cursed knife on him.

He could remember the pain of the knife slicing through his belly, the agonizing heat it created in his soul. It was like he had been set on fire, and the final push of the knife breaking ribs as it passed into his chest was nearly enough to make him pass out. He knew that if he didn't leave he was never going to make it out of there alive. No one had come to aid him like he had the dead boy. No one dared break rank and question their leader. Not even Severus. He used the last of his magic to escape that mansion in Manchester and go to Godric's Hollow. He knew he could find safety in the tiny community, and if he was lucky he would make it through this in one piece.

But what stood out more than the pain and the fear that rippled through his body as the memories flooded back to him so suddenly, was an assuming small golden chalice that sat on the head of the table beside The Dark Lord during their dinner. It stood no bigger than a wine glass, the ancient looking cup glimmering softly in the dimmed lighting. And even from his vantage point across the room, Regulus could vividly remember the badger pressed into the precious metal in the side of the cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad! Sorry for the prolonged break. I've been plotting, working on other stories, building my muse and then, right as I started to work on this fic, sickness struck my house like the plague! The good news is everyone is healthy, and I have an idea of how this is all going to wrap up. Expect another twenty or so chapters from me. (give or take 1-2). This story will be wrapping up in spring of 2019. 
> 
> Well, I hope it was worth the wait! Drop a review and let me know what you think!
> 
> As always, Beta love to Islandgurl777. I might have given her a small heart attack while she beta'd this. 
> 
> Also, come follow me/interact with me on Tumblr @ ms-merlinblack . Drop me an ask and I will make sure to answer.


	52. Set in Motion

**January 21** **st** **1980 - 21:27 - Tutshill**

Hermione couldn't be sure if it was the crisp winter air that chilled her to the bone, or the impending sense of dread for what was to come. Since Regulus' memories came flooding back to him nearly seven days prior, it felt like their life had been thrust into fast forward. Voldemort's madness was threatening to not only ruin countless innocent lives of both muggle and wizarding kind, but it was clear that he was also growing increasingly paranoid of those within his ranks—if Regulus' attack was any indication.

The Dark Lord's fixation on finding both the Longbottoms and Potters had grown, with numerous masked Death Eater sightings within Godric's Hollow and Wimborne over the past week. Thankfully the wards Hermione had set held, and the Ministry had even been lucky enough to apprehend some of the hitmen. Yet, even through this whirlwind, none of them expected to hear the news Alastor had come to them with only two days prior.

Rabastan Lestrange had been apprehended after assaulting one of Sirius and Remus' neighbors in Puddlemere after he could not recall seeing anyone coming or going from their flat. Lestrange resisted arrest, but in the end had been no match for the quick draw of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody. Rabastan was promptly taken down to DMLE headquarters and sequestered in a holding cell while his wand was inspected. While under questioning—and possibly Veritaserum since Alastor was lead Auror on his arrest and interrogation—he admitted participation in the planning and attempted kidnapping of a witch on whom the Dark Lord had set his sights. A witch by the name of Hermione Granger.

It seemed that even in the haze of prophecy-induced paranoia he still was determined to find out more about the witch he knew little about. Because of her elusive past, and the way she seemed to know information regarding his plans that no one else outside of his inner circle was privy to, he came to the conclusion that she was no ordinary witch, but rather a seer. Someone who, if he was able to persuade to join his ranks, could prove to be exceedingly invaluable. So instead of a price tag on her head, Hermione now had one on her being. He wanted her captured alive, and was willing to go to whatever means necessary to ensure this. Even if it meant risking losing his own followers in the process.

The news of Voldemort's interest in Hermione should not have been as shocking as it was, but that, coupled with his recent attack on Regulus, left Sirius on edge. He had practically demanded Ministry protection for his girlfriend, despite her insistence it was not needed, only calming down after a rather loud row one night, in which Hermione made it abundantly clear that she was not going to sit idly on the sidelines and let others risk their lives to protect her. She had lived through a war once before, and although she did not come out unscathed, she had lived. She had no intention of meeting an early grave in 1980, despite knowing that danger was ever-present.

She knew Sirius' intentions were coming from a place of concern. Regulus, the only member of his immediate family that he cared for, had been seriously injured by the same man who wanted to abduct her. But the fact remained the same—she was there to do a job. Although her time in the past had morphed into something much larger than she had ever expected, she still had an assignment that needed to be completed now more than ever.

Which was why she found herself standing in the snow covered backyard of a small home in Tutshill, shoulder to shoulder between Gideon and Fabian Prewett, dressed in Death Eater robes. Since the night of Regulus' attack, Severus had yet to be heard from. He was not in Spinner's End, nor seen coming and going from Malfoy Manor. It was as if the greasy haired wizard simply vanished. Despite his elusive behavior, Severus was never one to simply disappear without giving notice—especially to those he allowed in his inner circle.

Dumbledore and Regulus' growing unease over Severus' whereabouts became the reason they were even humouring this idea. Infiltrating a Death Eater meeting was not without _serious_ risk, but in this moment the rationale behind not doing it seemed far away. One of their own, no matter what any of the Marauders thought of him, was possibly in danger. It was their duty to take action to make sure he was okay.

With Regulus' inside knowledge of how these dark gathering of minds worked, a plan was quickly pieced together. Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Alastor, Regulus, Gideon and Fabian would all go undercover. The Ministry could not be aware of any of their involvement, as there were strict orders in place to not antagonize the masked assailants while the Aurors formulated a plan to take down the dark wizard leading them. But, as a man of action, Alastor was simply not willing to accept doing nothing. Leading the charge, he removed Death Eater robes and masks from the evidence cupboard in the DMLE on his shift's end earlier that day.

"You know, for as impractical as these robes are," Fabian looked down at his outfit as he tugged at the extended hemline of his sleeve. "I look pretty fucking good," he joked, cornflower blue eyes flashing up to Hermione who stifled a laugh behind a lifted hand.

"Only you would think of a way to make this about your looks," Gideon remarked with a sigh before he tugged the oversized black hood over the top of his head, hiding his distinct red hair.

"Don't be sore, Gid'. We're twins, you look nearly as good as I do," Fabian cajoled before wincing as his brother reached over the top of Hermione to smack him on the back of the head. "Watch the goods big brother. I might have to wear a mask tonight, this is not a lifelong commitment."

"I understand the need for levity, Fabian," Regulus interrupted the brotherly spat, granite gray eyes flicking between the two with deep lines of disapproval etched over his aristocratic features. "But now is truly not the time. You both are moments away from coming face to face with the worst of what Britain has to offer."

Fabian pressed his lips together, trying to mask his amusement. It wasn't that the raid team did not take Regulus' warning about what they were going to walk into seriously. Quite the contrary, in fact—Alastor, Sirius, Remus, and Hermione all knew the danger they were in. It was just that Fabian and Gideon both had a hard time listening to the stern warning Regulus gave, as they remembered him as the young, scrawny, black haired boy running the halls of Hogwarts with a scowl on his face.

"Mask to mask," Gideon corrected in a soft murmur, his eyes flicking away from Regulus as he brought his hand up to cover his growing smile.

Hermione watched the vein in the side of Regulus' neck bulge with tension as his jaw clenched. Despite their differences, the tells between the two brothers were nearly identical. He was quickly approaching his breaking point, which meant that unless someone stepped in he would go into this raid already on a razor's edge.

"I got them, Reg'," Hermione spoke up quickly as she took a half step forward. Reaching out, she laid her hand on his forearm, giving it a soft squeeze to ground him back to this moment. "Why don't you go help Alastor? He looks like he can't figure out front to back on the robes," she suggested, nodding her head towards the disgruntled one-eyed wizard who was violently fighting with the vast layers of the ceremonial fabric.

Regulus pursed his lips together as he eyed Alastor, unamused, before releasing a heavy sigh. "Keep them in line, Hermione." Regulus slowly pulled his arm from under her touch. "I owe you a life debt, not them," he reminded her in a hushed whisper before turning on his heel, black robes billowing behind him in the cool winter breeze as he made his way to Alastor.

Life debt. Two words that carried more weight than they should have. She hated that Regulus felt that way, but it was an old pureblood way of thinking, wasn't it? She was owed no favor or debt. She didn't help Regulus expecting anything in return. She did it because no one needed to die. She did it because he was her friend and the brother of her boyfriend. Did he truly expect her to just stand by and do nothing to save his life? Shaking her head, she turned back around to face the twins who were whispering to one another while pointing at Alastor and Regulus, no doubt making plans to prank the pair.

"Don't." She gave the single word warning and withdrew her own wand before floating two silver masks that sat atop the icy backyard table toward the brothers. "Just get ready. Don't antagonize him—or anyone else for that matter. Please," she pleaded.

Gideon reached out, taking the closest mask with his gloved hand. "Alright, but only because you asked so nicely." He sighed.

"And because you sent Molly that lovely gift basket for Yule," Fabian added as he plucked his own bask from the air. "Which, by the way, she sends her love. Told us we had to keep an eye on you while we were out. I tried to explain that between the Black brothers and Remus you already had your hands full, but she insisted."

Despite her attempt to stay serious to keep Regulus from boiling over, a small smile tugged on the corner of her lips. The similarities between the Prewetts and their young twin nephews was comforting, for in moments like these she could almost pretend it was Fred and George before her instead of their wild set of uncles. Lifting her hand to her hairline, she carded her fingers through the thick curls, brushing them back. "Tell her that I can do just fine on my own. Unlike you lot, I still have my wits about me."

"Do you though?" Sirius questioned skeptically as he walked up beside his girlfriend, campfire smoke eyes looking at her imploringly. He had spent the last several hours begging Hermione not to go. He'd almost lost his brother, he was going to be damned if he would lose her. She meant more to him than some bloody spineless prick that Reg and Dumbledore were so hell-bent on saving. Snivellus didn't deserve to be saved. He helped create this beast they were fighting, swearing his allegiance to a mad man. If he found himself in a shallow grave because of it—well, then so be it. That was his burden to bear and no one else's.

Hermione couldn't help but notice the way the long black robe highlighted Sirius' features in the most aristocratic way possible. The inky black fabric made his pale skin almost glow, and, if possible, highlight his high cheekbones and angular jaw even more so than they normally were. It was obvious that the design aesthetic for these uniforms was not just to be foreboding and incite fear into the hearts of countless individuals. No, whoever designed them took the time to make sure they were well crafted and made of rich materials. It was almost as if they had still wanted the world to know that beneath the mask there was someone of self-imposed high status.

"Despite your beliefs, I do." Hermione's tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip as she tore her eyes away from Sirius. Lifting her wand once more, Hermione accio'd her mask from the table. Even through the thick black gloves, she could feel the icy cold of the metal as her fingers wrapped around it. The etched lines of swirling filigree were familiar. She could remember seeing this particular mask on more than one occasion. The first time was during fifth year in the Department of Mysteries and the last had been in the rubble after the final battle. She never knew who it belonged to, but she held suspicions it had been worn by Yaxley.

Sirius quickly glanced to the twins, silently pleading for them to leave and it seemed to have worked, because suddenly both Fabian and Gideon held a keen interest in the crumbled birdbath in the corner of the yard, leaving Sirius and Hermione as alone as they possibly could be in a backyard surrounded by Order members. "Little bird…"

"Sirius, please don't do this again," Hermione whispered as she took a step closer to him so they were standing toe to toe. Reaching out with her left hand, she laid it across his chest over his heart. "I'm going."

Sirius' hands came to rest on Hermione's waist, his fingers fidgeting with the belt loops on her jeans through the thick robes. His mouth worked silently, as if trying to remember how to formulate words, but when nothing came, all he could do was release a heavy sigh. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't. I haven't yet, right?"

"You have! That…that bloody cave. You could have died," Sirius reminded her in a hushed whisper, his eyes widening as if to prove his point.

"That was different. I'm not planning on drinking any mysterious potions, or nibbling on an 'eat me' cake anytime soon," Hermione pointed out, her fingers sliding over the soft fabric on his chest, drawing little swirls over his heart.

"But if you had to…to save Snivellus—"

"Severus," Hermione corrected with roll of her eyes.

"—uh. Fine. Severus. If you have to so he could live, you would, wouldn't you?" Sirius questioned, his head cocking to the side. It had been nearly a full year since Hermione had fallen into his life, but he knew her personality well enough by now to not even need confirmation. She wouldn't think twice about risking her life if it meant she could save even _one_ soul in the process.

"I—I don't know," she lied. "You can't ask me hypotheticals for improbable situations. Sirius, this is a rescue mission. We are going in, trying to find Severus and getting out. As long as no one acts impulsively, we should be able to get in and out without a fire fight. _I_ will be fine... _Regulus_ will be fine."

Sirius leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers and as their noses brushed, he allowed his eyes to close. "Little bird, you don't know that."

His hot breath sent goosebumps down her spine as it washed across her face. In this intimate embrace, it was as if she could physically feel the anxiety coursing through his veins. Her eyes shut and slowly she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers intertwine with the shaggy black hair on his nape. "But I believe it, and that's nearly as important."

Sirius knew there was no point in trying to dissuade her any further. He'd voiced his concerns more than once and she remained as unmoving as the boulder that breached the shores for the Black Lake back at Hogwarts. His right hand rose to her cheek and with a soft touch he gently guided her lips to his in a sweet kiss. He wanted so desperately to protect her from the madness. He knew their time was fading. With less than eight months left to spend together, he wanted to make every bloody moment count. He wanted to keep her safe so that way when twenty years passed, she would be whole enough to accept him once more.

Hermione leaned into the kiss, her nails scratching against the soft skin on the back of his neck as she rose onto the tips of her toes, her head tilting to the side to deepen the sweet embrace. Just as her lips parted, the sound of someone clearing their throat grounded them back to reality.

Sirius slowly lifted his head, making sure to nuzzle his nose against her own before he looked up to the find the source of their rude interruption. Across the yard the group had gathered. It appeared as if Regulus was finally successful in helping Alastor into the black robes, and they were all impatiently waiting for the two of them to finish.

"We don't have all night, Black," Alastor's gruff voice called across the yard, his magical eye swirling around wildly, flickering between each person, clearly sensing the dark magic that was imbued in the regalia that all wore.

"Oh right, I'm sorry Mad-Eye. Can't forget to give you a snog before we leave, can I?" Sirius shot back, earning a stifled chuckle from the twins, but a growl of irritation from their leader. Looking back to his girlfriend, Sirius leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against her temple before dropping his lips near her ear. "Don't do anything stupid while we're there, Little bird."

"I could give you the same warning," Hermione teased, slowly unwinding her arms from around his neck before she reached down to take his hand. Their fingers laced together, the thick black gloves didn't allow her to feel the heat radiating from his palm, but the pressure was enough to calm her further.

The snow crunched beneath their boots as they moved to join the group that neared the perimeter of the warded cottage. Regulus held his silver mask, his fingers tracing across the bars that welded the whole mouth together. Tonight was the last time he planned on donning this suit of horrors. When they found Severus and brought him back, he was going to burn the bloody thing until only ash remained. He would never be able to escape from the choices he had made, but he would be damned if he was going to allow the robes and mask to follow him through life any further.

"Remember, do not speak to anyone. Linger in the back of the room." He spoke crisply, slowly lifting his eyes to look around the small group huddled beside him. "And wait for my signal. If you're compromised, do not wait for others. Apparate out of there."

One by one, the group nodded, understanding that once they took the portkey, there was no turning back. The plan was set, the risks weighed and now the only thing left to do was to go find Severus and bring him back to safety.

Regulus was the first to lift his mask to his face, and he waited for it to magically seal to him before he pulled his hood over his head, concealing his identity from the outside world. Turning from his spot, he began over the ward line, out into the open field behind the Tutshill cottage where they could safely take the portkey without giving up the location of their safe house.

Hermione and Sirius stayed hand in hand even after they put their masks on. Even from behind it, Hermione felt the creeping tendrils of fear lick against the adrenaline that rushed inside her. Seeing the masks and robes would never not bring her back to her childhood. She'd long feared the monsters who hid beneath them, but it was time to face her fears yet again. She had to, if she was going to be successful in her own mission, for tonight they were not just rescuing Severus. Tonight, Hermione did not plan on leaving the gathering without destroying the last of the Horcruxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come follow me on tumblr - ms-merlinblack. xx


	53. Hannen Columbarium

**January 21st, 1980 – 22:00 – Wargrave, England**

The velvety blackness of the winter night's sky made the stars look like diamonds as they twinkled, yet instead of the normal wonder that would captivate Hermione's wandering mind, their sparkle held a breath-stealing malevolence tonight. Each labored breath she took had the sharp aftertaste of metal, reminding her that despite the magic that made the hard mask wear like a second skin, she was indeed wearing a silver facade that haunted her dreams.

Travel by Portkey was not high on the list of her preferred methods of travel, but it paled in comparison to the bouts of time travel she had experienced within the last year. While normally she would feel jarred from the swirling vortex that was Portkey travel, she now felt nothing. They had landed inside a graveyard; the only indication that others had been there prior to their arrival was the trails of broken snow that wound between headstones. These macabre little paths all lead to one destination.

The Hannen Columbarium. Even in the inky blackness, she could make out the white door and a forlorn looking angel that sat atop it, its hopeless gaze judging all those who dared to walk beneath its archway. Hermione clenched her shaking hands, praying the tension would prevent her from giving away the secret of their infiltration. In moments like this- seconds away from facing her worst nightmare- she had to keep reminding herself why this mission was so important.

When a hand pressed against her shoulder, Hermione jumped. As she turned to face whoever beckoned her back to the moment, she almost forgot that instead of a friendly face she would see a monster. "Y-yeah?" her voice cracked.

"We need to hurry." A familiar voice came from beneath the silver mask, sharp gray eyes accented by the blackened eye holes, making them appear like molten silver. "If we linger too long, the Muggles will notice." Regulus lifted his gloved hand and gestured towards the Parish that sat just across the small graveyard. An artificial yellow light flooded into the darkness from the stained glass windows.

It was almost ironic that the beautiful jewel-hued glass images of angels and biblical scenes were the closest source of light. How did it make Voldemort feel, knowing that this secret meeting's location was only yards from a Muggle place of worship? She knew the orphanage he had been left in was run by the same church who owned this place. Surely that could not have been a coincidence.

Hermione nodded and she reached up to smooth out her robe's lapels, tugging lightly at the loose fabric to ground her back to the moment before she glanced over her shoulders, watching as the masked figures of her group appeared to collect themselves in silence. Reaching into her robes, she withdrew her vinewood and slipped it up her sleeve, careful to keep it concealed as she moved after Regulus.

One by one, the group made their way across the graveyard. The raid team formed a tight line in the snow as they passed headstone after headstone. The aged stone crucifixes and winter dead trees that lined the graveyard made the atmosphere ominous. Even if they weren't headed into unknown danger, she likely would have felt as stricken as she did now. Not a single soul behind her dared to utter a word as they moved. Clearly the haunting feeling that chilled her bones was not hers alone.

On reaching the Columbarium, Regulus pressed the tip of his wand to the right of the door and a glowing emerald light appeared instantly. The spell sunk into the metal wood, and suddenly a vine-like maze began to spread from where his wand touched. The entire white door was temporarily lit up, the emerald glow growing brighter as more vines spread until there was not an ounce of white left on its aged surface. The angel on top of the door sank into the stone archway, disappearing into blackness, and in its place a smoky glowing red skull appeared. Its jaw was unhinged, opening inhumanly wide and a crimson serpent wound its way between its crooked teeth.

The smoky snake hung low on the door, lingering at the top of the archway, its gleaming eyes assessing the group in silent scrutiny. And suddenly, the emerald vinework vanished, leaving an open doorway beneath the low hanging snake.

From her vantage point, Hermione could not make out what lay beyond the opened doorway, but she could see a faint blue glow emanating up from what appeared to be a long stairwell. Her fingers tightened around her wand, and with a heavy breath, Hermione moved quietly after Regulus, who still led the charge. She couldn't sense any hesitation from the wizard, which was both admirable and unnerving.

As she stepped inside the chamber, the smell of mold and dust immediately hit her. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darker lighting, and when they did, she could make out urns that lined every possible surface inside the Columbarium. They were unlike any urn she had ever seen before. Instead of vases, or wooden boxes, the urns were replicas of what their owners had looked like in their youth. The faces of hundreds of witches and wizards stared at her as she moved across the room, her pace slowing to a crawl as she looked around in abject horror. The soulless eyes of the magic urns followed her, as if they could see right through her mask and clothing to deem her an infiltrator to the Dark Lord's meeting.

Regulus, who did not seem to be bothered in the slightest by the judgmental stares from the decapitated heads from the past, moved through the room briskly, the heels from his boots snapping on the uneven stonework as he made his way towards a narrow opening from which the distant blue light emanated.

The passageway was barely large enough for Hermione to walk through head on. Before her, Regulus had to turn his body slightly sideways so his shoulders could fit. She could feel the ground beneath her feet transition from stonework to earth as the passageway began to draw down until the incline forced a set of manmade stairs beneath her feet. Just as they reached the end, Regulus paused, his frame blocking her from seeing what lay beyond him, but the murmur of the crowd told her they had arrived at the meeting.

"—and then, we watched the bitches bleed out."

"The Cruciatus curse was far too good for the Mudblood cunt. She deserved to die the way she came into this world–a fucking worthless Muggle."

"The Dark Lord values your efforts, Bella. He will be very pleased."

Her stomach clenched, and the scar on her arm flared with pain as memories of her own run-in with the witch ran through her mind at lightning speed. She had re-lived that day far too many times in her dreams. She had tried to reach a new fate in her nightmare on more than one occasion. She tried fighting back. She tried running. She'd even tried to throw herself out the open window—but her fate was still the same in her dreams as it had been in real life.

But now, dammit, she _was_ going to prevent it. She was going to make sure that no version of herself would ever have to face the same fate of lying in her own blood on the floor of Malfoy Manor. She was not going to have to bear the literal scars of peoples' prejudice, because she would end this bloody thing before it got that far.

Hermione reached out and lay her hand on Regulus' back, and with a gentle push she encouraged him to move into the room. As she took the last step, moving into the antechamber, the smell hit her before she could take in the macabre décor. Hellfire and brimstone. The chamber lingered with the odour of evil incarnate, the putrid scent burning her nasal cavity as she inhaled. Her mouth instantly ran dry, and stinging tears sprung to the corners of her eyes–not out of fear, but rather a burning pain.

Along the walls, blue flamed torches burned, their smoke causing a thick haze to hover within the chamber. The room was decently sized, no larger than the Potions classroom back at Hogwarts, and along the stone walls hung magical paintings. Some depicted what Hermione could only assume were Pureblood ancestors of people who lingered about—their enchanted portraits serving as messengers to bring news from the Dark Lord to their homes, while others were images of historical scenes from long ago: The Giant Wars, the Vampire Rebellion, and witch hunts. Artwork of witches and wizards tied to stakes, large infernos blazing at their feet, licking their skin, their pain clearly written across their faces as they struggled beneath the ropes that bound them to the poles.

The raid team broke apart, knowing that if they lingered together, they would be a bigger target than they already were by showing up late. She walked past Bellatrix, whose mask she could never forget, and their shoulders brushed against one another, sending a bolt of electricity than ran from her shoulder directly down to her wand hand. Her fingers flexed instinctually, desperate to pull her wand free from the sleeve of her robes and blast the bitch into oblivion.

"Watch where you're going!" the masked witch hissed. Bellatrix was not large in stature, but the presence she wielded with her malevolent demeanor and tone made her seem ten feet tall. Hermione had watched grown men quake in their boots as they faced off with the witch who–in her timeline–had been Voldemort's right hand.

Hermione didn't respond, not trusting herself to speak without giving away how anxious she felt to be trapped in a room packed with Death Eaters. Instead, she offered a small incline of her head before she moved past Bellatrix, heading for the front of the antechamber where a set of ruby red double doors lay closed.

"I was surprised to hear of your recent raise in status, Barty," a melodic voice crooned. The distinct white blonde hair would have given away Lucius Malfoy's true identity, even if she had not been able place his voice. He lingered near the double doors, the silver serpent handle of his wand glistening in the blue lighting. "One might assume you were responsible for setting up the Black boy, judging by the favor you gained immediately following his demise."

"Responsible?" Barty hissed. Even with the silver mask hiding his features, Hermione could hear the repulsion in his voice. Like Lucius' accusation was not just wrong, but utterly unfounded. "I held no part in Regulus' fate. He made his bed the moment he decided how the Dark Lord should hand out his punishments."

"There is no ill will with my assessment, my boy. Quite the opposite, I admire your adoration to the cause. It is most impressive, considering how...weak-willed your father has become over the years," Lucius purred. "But even you can admit how peculiar it is. The boy had been the Dark Lord's favorite for many years now—why would he have a sudden change of heart?"

"Regulus was weak—just like his brother," Barty spat. "Even the most ancient of families can become afflicted by a bleeding heart. Clearly the Dark Lord saw weakness in him. He knew he must cleanse our ranks before that weakness spread."

Hermione clenched her jaw so tight she was sure the enamel on her molars was going to chip away. The desire to defend not only her boyfriend but his brother bubbled painfully close to the surface. Regulus and Sirius were both far better men than either of these two. They had faced not only physical pain, but also the emotional scarring from years of abuse and neglect from parents too proud to change their ways. And just when their fates could not grow any darker, both brothers had to make a choice. The path of light—where they fought for what they believed to be good, or the darker path encouraged by their family.

Each had to choose a side at a time in his life when all he should have had to worry about was school, and which girl—or boy in Sirius' case—would be his next snog! It was unfair. The fates had torn the brothers apart at an early age and only recently decided to bring them together again, only to have their reunion threatened by a madman with a God complex? No, that would not happen. Not on her watch. She was not just saving Lily and James, or the countless lives that would be unclaimed as a result of stopping Voldemort the first time. She was bound and determined to make sure that the man she fell in love with would have more than just his adopted friends—he would have his baby brother by his side during those twenty years she was not able to be.

"Perhaps you're right, Barty. Your unwavering loyalty for the Dark Lord can be most impressive." Although spoken as a compliment, Hermione knew that Lucius meant no praise by his words. She watched as Barty inhaled deeply, his chest expanding beneath the billowing robes, but before he could question Lucius' motives, the double doors the pair stood in front of opened.

The ancient hinges creaked in protest, and instantly a hush fell over the crowd. White smoke billowed into the antechamber from the room, spilling across the floor like sea foam.

"Come in, my children," a deep booming voice called out from inside the dark room, beckoning all who stood in the antechamber into the inky blackness of the now opened ceremonial room.

Using her slight frame to her advantage, Hermione slipped into the crowd and made her way inside. This room was much larger, easily the size of the Great Hall in both height and width. Unlike the antechamber, the walls in this room were bare—save for the copper stains that splattered along the walls in various locations. In the center of the room lay a stone sarcophagus with ancient runes etched into the stone. They spoke of containing evil plagues and magic trapped inside, as well as warning those who ventured this far down to leave the tomb undisturbed. Whomever was buried inside was a force so evil that even the monster who built this shrine feared their spirit running free. Standing before the sarcophagus with his hands clasped behind his back, stood a man she never wished to see in the flesh again.

Voldemort—Tom Riddle—the Dark Lord—He-who-must-not-be-named. Whatever the bloody hell he decided his name was that morning didn't matter; he could call himself emperor of the world, and it didn't bother her one bit, because she knew what the man before her truly was. Dead.

Voldemort's robes were similar in style to those of his followers but with a sole distinction. Instead of black, he wore a crimson so dark it appeared as if he had dipped himself in the blood of his victims. The hem of his robes was frayed, exposing his bare feet as he paced around the sarcophagus, lifting his eyes from the floor. His face was masked, like the rest of his followers, except instead of the etched filigree that Hermione was used to seeing, Voldemort's mask bore the likeness of a serpent. Slits for nostrils, narrowed eyes and an almost triangular shape—similar to a viper. It was a play on his ancestry, but Hermione alone knew the irony of his selection. In the future, he had come to bear more similarities to a snake than the mask he currently wore .

Positioning herself close to the door—in case a hasty exit was needed- Hermione scanned the room, brown eyes searching for not only the familiar masks of the raid team members, but also for Severus.

"I am sure you are all wondering why I've called you from your beds on this dreary Sunday night," Voldemort began, his voice like syrup, echoing off the bare walls around him as he spoke to the crowd of glittering silver faces. "And before I enthrall you with details about this momentous gathering, I would like to update you on our efforts. We have made progress. Our cause to rid the earth of the scourge is coming ever closer! The Muggle filth that have infiltrated our ranks and stolen magic from our brothers and sisters will soon no longer be tolerated."

Hermione stood silent, biting the inside of her bottom lip as she listened to Voldemort recount what he considered to be a recent victory. A Muggle family in Wiltshire had been laid to rest this past week. A mother, father and two young children. And the heinous crime this family committed? They stole the magic from a local wizard, and gave it to their eldest son.

"—the sweet melody of their dying breath will forever bring joy to my bones. For each death means we are one step closer! One step closer to a world without Muggles. A world in which we can live freely! A world in which Wizards are not cast to the shadows, forced to live underground! Each death is victory for all of us in this room!"

As the crowd cheered, Hermione felt a chill run down her spine. Their enthusiasm for the murder of innocent people was almost too much. It was like they had simply forgotten how to be human. Right from wrong. The moral foundation on which Voldemort was building his empire felt shaky—at best.

"Which brings us to the first of many promising announcements to come tonight, my children." Voldemort rose from the floor, magic levitating him until he was able to step easily onto the sarcophagus. It was evident he wanted everyone in the room to have a clear view of him, for he turned in a slow circle, making sure all eyes were on him before he reached up and removed his snake mask. "No longer shall I hide behind a mask of anonymity. From this day forward, the world will know my name and face. The Muggles will bow down and grovel for their rightful place beneath my feet, while all of wizarding kind rejoices my victories."

The sound of the snake mask clattering on the stone floor echoed around them as Voldemort tossed it away from his body without hesitation. Reaching into his blood red robes, he withdrew his wand and leveled it at the offending mask. No verbal incantation left his lips, but immediately the mask began to heat until it glowed red hot and melted into a puddle of molten silver on the stone floor. The now liquid precious metal slid between the cracks in the stonework, spidering its way out across the uneven floor.

The crowd around Hermione erupted in murmurs, watching as their master descended from the sarcophagus as if on invisible stairs, until he finally reached the ground. He avoided the melted silver as he made his way around the room, slowly lowering his red hood to reveal a head full of thick brown hair and his face to his followers.

"My mission—our mission is not one to be ashamed of! We are doing the work that our ancestors would proud of. We bring purity back to our world! A world that is plagued by thieves and tainted blood. No longer shall your children be forced to sit beside lesser beings while earning their education. No longer shall you work beside the scourge of this earth. We shall bring peace to our world—No! The entire world! Our cause will not stop in England. For once the rest of the wizarding communities witness our power, they shall join our quest for purity! They shall walk openly with us."

Each word he spoke seemed to further fan the flames of the mania that lived within the Death Eaters. Around the room some of the attendees joined him in removing their masks and revealing their faces. Some of them she easily recognized—Barty Crouch Jr., Bellatrix Lestrange, and Igor Karkaroff to name a few—but the rest were unfamiliar. She knew that the first time around, Voldemort was able to amass a much larger following than he would during her school years . Had these people turned their backs on their master after his initial defeat and seen reason through this madness, or did they simply hide in the shadows?

"—Tonight, my children. I have a treat for you all. You will all witness something truly paramount to our cause. This is the night you will speak about to your little ones as you tuck them into bed. The night you bore witness to my power. The night you knew we would be victorious…" His voice trailed off and he directed his wand to the far side of the room. With a delicate flick of his wrist, fuschia light poured from the tip of his wand and connected with the ceiling. The spell sank into the stone, forming a small square that began to grow until it reached the size of a large trunk. The light grew brighter and then a soft _pop_ could be heard as the ceiling where the square had been simply disappeared. In its place a set of metal stairs appeared, one by one lowering to the floor until they settled into place. "Rowle, Dolohov… please join us with our guest of honour."

At his command, the wizards descended the staircase, their heavy boots clanging violently against the metal stairs, the noise reverberating in time with Hermione's rapid heart beat. The two men looked much younger than the last time she'd seen them. Clearly their time in Azkaban had taken a toll on more than just their mental states.

Dolohov lead the charge with an arrogant stare; his beady black eyes surveyed the crowd. His chin tilted up, shoulders set back, and the leisurely pace by which he strolled into the room set the tone. He wanted everyone watching to know he was a favorite of their Dark Lord. He was one of the chosen ones. His right hand was lifted shoulder high, and the brown wand he held aloft had a silver rope trailing from the tip to an unknown hooded figure behind him where it bound around their wrists.

A white hood covered their face, but it was obvious whoever was underneath was not a guest by choice to this gathering. The clothing Hermione could make out was filthy, as if they had not changed in weeks, and their bound hands were caked with black soot. Hermione winced, watching as Rowle shoved the prisoner down the last couple of steps, causing them to trip over the steep stone steps and tumble to the floor.

"Ah-ah," Voldemort tsked, an amused smile falling across his face, making him appear more manic than he already did. "Be gentle with our guest of honour, Rowle. We do need them alive for this."

Dolohov's head snapped over his shoulder, black eyes narrowing on Rowle in warning before he yanked them up by the magical bonds, forcing the prisoner to their feet despite the blossoming of red on the white hood. He moved them to the sarcophagus that his master had been standing on moments ago, and with a flick of his wrist, the rope attached itself to the lid, sinking into the stone as if the silver rope had always been a part of its design.

Hermione edged closer, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip as she eyed the hooded person curiously, her heart beating violently against her ribs. She tried desperately to compare the height of the hooded figure against her own, but from this distance and the low lighting, she couldn't make out definitely how tall the hooded prisoner was. Rising to the tips of her toes, Hermione's eyes narrow as she tried to make out what Dolohov was doing as he approached the hooded prisoner. Could it be Severus beneath there? Had he been found out as well? If it was him—how they hell were they going to be able to pull off saving him from whatever cruel fate had befallen him without giving away their positions?

As her mind swam with the possibilities of what type of distraction would be needed to get the unknown prisoner free, she didn't notice Dolohov's hand snake up to the back of the hood until he had yanked the ruined fabric off of their 'guest of honor's' head.

Hermione gasped, her eyes widening in abject horror at the sight before her. Underneath the hood was not Severus Snape; while this should have brought a sense of relief, it only made their reveal worse, for she knew who stood before her. Dorcas Meadowes. A witch she had met only once before, but the memory of their brief interaction was pleasant. She was a tall, beautiful, soft-spoken witch whose subdued passion to right the wrongs in the world lead her to the Order. She was highly gifted in Charms, and a Muggleborn.

Except now she looked far different now than she had before. Her thick black curls had been cropped short, and in some places bald spots appeared where hair was supposed to be. Her dark skin blossomed with black bruises on her arms and cheeks. Her right eye was not only swollen shut, but the skin around it appeared to have split from the swelling. Worse was the lower half of her face. From her chin down she was covered in dried blood. Its origin was her lips, where a thick, coarse red thread had been sewn into both her upper and lower lips like some sort of macabre shrunken head, forcing them shut so the witch could not open her mouth to utter a single word.

Hermione's jaw clenched as she fought back her impulse to run into the clearing and free the witch. She watched in silent rage as Dorcas look up at Dolohov, only able to make plaintive whimpers as the ruthless wizard forced her onto to the stone sarcophagus, pressing her head down to the stone until her bruised cheek met the rough surface.

"What a creative way to silence our guest, Antonin. Your ability to silence them never fails to amaze me." Voldemort chuckled as he approached Dorcas. A single finger ran across her cheek to her lips where he plucked at the red thread like one would a guitar string. His wicked smile widened as he watched Dorcas tremble with fear, tears sliding down her temples and splashing against the stone tomb she laid on top of. Raising his wand, he ran it between her wrists and her ankles as an incantation left his lips in a low hiss. Red ropes appeared from the tip of his wand and flew through the air toward her, binding around her wrists and ankles before the opposite end sunk to the floor on either end of the sarcophagus and stretching her body taut across the stone lid.

"This, my children, is Dorcas Meadowes—" Voldemort began, brown eyes lifting to survey the crowd who had gone silent in curiosity. He began a slow pace around the tomb, the tip of his wand trailing across her stretched out body. "—This little Mudblood was apprehended earlier this week by Dolohov and Rowle after they found her snooping about our recently reclaimed London home. It appears she was acting under orders from Albus Dumbledore." The crowd around him hissed in disapproval as he spoke Dumbledore's name, and some members went as far as to boo the mention of the Headmaster. His left hand rose to the crowd, requesting their silence as a jovial chuckle rumbled low in his chest—clearly amused at his followers' disdain. "It appears, my children, that Dumbledore has been trying to gather more information on our cause. The old wizard is far more interested in determining our next move than he was with the life of this disgusting little Mudblood. Which is why, I think it time we teach him a lesson about sending magic thieves into our homes."

Voldemort's wand sliced through the air at a breakneck speed until the tip was pointed directly at Dorcas' chest. " _Crucio!_ " A vibrant red light burst from the end of his wand, crossing the room like a lightning bolt until the energy connected with the center of Dorcas' chest. On impact, a muffled scream filled the chamber as the witch involuntarily tried to open her mouth wide enough to cry out properly, the red thread pulling against her sewn lips, causing new blood to trickle across her skin. She thrashed on the stone tomb, struggling against her restraints as the curse worked its way through her body like an electrical current.

Hermione's eyes pricked with tears as she watched the torture. Voldemort released the first cast, only to fire off another Cruciatus curse at the witch. Manic laughter overpowered her stifled screams in agony as he watched Dorcas thrash violently against her restraints. Hermione's labored breaths increased as memories of her time on the receiving end of that curse flowed back to her like a tidal wave. She could remember it well. Every ounce of pain, every scream that ripped her throat raw. The way her mind went completely blank except for the pain as it coursed through her veins. The way it was so all-consuming that even breathing was no longer involuntary. The sensation of white-hot knives piercing every inch of her skin, the way it made her beg for death, as if it was the way for her to find release from this pain. Her fingers tightened painfully around her wand as she watched him cast curse after curse on the witch, causing her back to bow painfully high off the tomb.

Her inner battle to remain in the shadows was failing, as just as he invited Dolohov to come join him in torturing Dorcas, a definitive decision was made. She would not allow herself to standby any more. She had been in Dorcas' position before, helpless to an evil bitch, while others stood by and let the torture happen. Hermione drew her wand from her sleeve, letting the black fabric bunch at her elbow as she prepared to step forward and put an end to this.

Her lungs expanded as she inhaled deeply, straining tightly against the fabric of her black robes, and just as she took a step forward, she felt a cooled hand curl painfully tight around her wrist. Without notice, she was yanked back into the crowd, her body slamming against a bony chest, causing her to exhale the deep breath rapidly.

"Your actions would not save the girl," an all too familiar voice hissed in her ear. "Don't be a bloody idiot and act without forethought."

"Severus?" Hermione's head whipped around, nearly knocking her mask into the side of his. "Where have you been!? We've been—"

With her wrist still firmly in his grasp, Severus pulled Hermione back through the crowd, his actions silencing her words as her feet struggled to keep up with his brisk pace until they were huddled against the wall. All of the masked Death Eaters around them paid them no mind, as their attention was glued to the torture show still occurring in the center of the room.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Severus whispered, releasing Hermione's wrist as he reached up to pull his hood further around his head to conceal his identity more. "Do not speak my name—in fact, do not speak at all. Your presences here was beyond foolish. I have been with the Dark Lord. The owls were reckless, but I was able to intercept them without notice."

Hermione rubbed the tender flesh around her wrist, a deep frown falling over her features that she desperately wished Severus could make out. Even in his youth the wizard was clearly as much of as arsehole as he would be in adulthood. "If you responded, then we wouldn't be in this situation—would we?" she reminded the wizard, turning to look over her shoulder to the center of the room when the crowd began to cheer.

Voldemort had levitated the witch into the air, her body hung limp like a rag doll. From this vantage point she could make out that Dorcas had passed out, likely from the pain induced by the Cruciatus. Her unconsciousness brought an end to the torture, and while this should have brought some relief, a trickle of dread lingered at the back of her mind, plaguing her thoughts as she watched Voldemort reach into his blood red robes to retrieve something.

"The Order's worry was not—" Severus began, only to be rudely cut off when Hermione hushed him and lifted a hand towards the wizard's face.

"—tonight, my children, you are going to witness a magic so great that not even the powerful Albus Dumbledore has accomplished this slice of immortality." Voldemort's voice echoed around the chamber louder than before, his excitement for what was about to occur evident by the slight tremble in his hand. As he removed his right hand from inside his robes, the silver gleam of a dagger glittered, sending star bursts of light across the room. The hilt was delicately carved from what appeared to be bone—human or beast, the origin was uncertain. The silver blade was long, at least ten inches, and the bottom half of the knife-edge was covered in a dried crimson blood.

"Tonight, I will drink from the elixir of life, and create another means to ensure my immortality."

The words sent a chill down her spine as the realisation set in for why this meeting was called. Voldemort was making another Horcrux! He was making another bloody Horcrux in front of his followers! She knew his madness was rising, but clearly this was taking his insanity to a whole new level. Her spine straightened, and the wand that Severus forced back into her wrist holster was withdrawn.

"Don't," Severus said louder than before, his hand curling around her shoulder, preventing her from advancing back toward the crowd.

Hermione rolled her shoulder roughly, trying to free herself from Severus' crushing grip. "Fuck off. You might be a coward, but I am not going to stand here and let this bloody happen!"

"He can't complete the ritual!" Severus' fingers curled around her shoulder, as his other hand moved to clutch her arm, drawing her back further into the shadows despite her struggle. "He's scared. He knows you know, he's trying to draw you out."

"So I'm supposed to just let her die?!" Hermione snapped.

"She knew what she signed up for."

The rage inside Hermione bubbled over at his words. Brown eyes widened before the consuming flame of impulsivity overtook her sense. With one sharp elbow to his gut, Hermione freed herself from his grasp and began across the room, pushing her way through the crowd as she reached up to peel her mask away from her face. If she was going to cause a scene, she might as well make sure that Voldemort and all his bloody followers knew her face, for she wanted to haunt their dreams just as much as they had hers for so long.

As the pushed towards the center of the room, the scene that had been partially hidden by the throng of people came into view. Dorcas floated in the air, her arms and legs limp, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Beneath her on the sarcophagus lid lay a golden chalice with a badger stamped into the face, positioned beneath her to collect whatever blood it could and Voldemort had the cursed blade poised against Dorcas' neck, ready to puncture her skin.

She felt the penetrating stare of his brown eyes find her in the crowd, silently assessing what the hell she thought she was doing. Stepping forward, she broke rank from the crowd and peeled off her mask with one swift movement before tossing it across the room, letting the silver clatter against the stone. Just as she lifted her wand, the incantation on the tip of her tongue, from across the circle a bright white light filled the room before what sounded like a canon exploding rattled the room. Debris flew everywhere; stone shrapnel flew so violently across the room it knocked some of the Death Eaters to the floor. As the smoke from the explosion cleared, the image of Voldemort appeared within a Protego shield, kneeling on the ground, his crimson robes pooling around him. On the opposite side of the room stood Regulus, his own mask removed, the billowing robes opened to reveal a carefully tailored pair of maroon trousers, charcoal gray vest and off-white button-down oxford. His black hair was blown back, and smoke emanated from the tip of his wand. The gray eyes that held apprehension and fear earlier sparkled wildly in the dim light of the room, now holding nothing but revenge for the Dark Lord who nearly took his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come follow me on tumblr - ms-merlinblack


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